


Of Spirits and Flame

by PerhapsTheWind



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Bending (Avatar), Betrayal, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Fluff, Humor, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Spirit World, Spirits, Zuko (Avatar) Angst, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, but only slight divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerhapsTheWind/pseuds/PerhapsTheWind
Summary: Things like destiny and fate have been part of your life from a young age, but when you’re tasked with helping Zuko find the Avatar, you begin to call your destiny into question.Or,“Destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out. But if you keep an open mind and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny.“- Uncle Iroh
Relationships: Zuko (Avatar) & Reader, Zuko (Avatar)/Original Female Character(s), Zuko (Avatar)/Reader
Comments: 73
Kudos: 307





	1. Beginnings

To roam the spirit world freely, you must become one with the spirits. 

That was never difficult for you, considering your origin. 

When you were a small child, you'd wander the spirit world finding delight in the variety of souls that walked there. You were crawling. Something about that place made you want to become one with the dirt, and you missed so many small ground spirits if you weren't careful. 

You brushed your hand over some grass and dry dirt, impossibly soft under your young fingers. 

"Ow!" A deep, resonant voice called out. 

_So much for careful._

Under your hand, you saw a large, moon-shaped eye made of dirt blink. You startled.

"Oh! I'm sorry." You retracted your hand, feeling guilty for poking his eye. 

"Watch where you're going, youngster." It sounded old, ancient like there was grit in his throat. The spirit yawned, and the trees and ground shifted with the noise. He began to sit up, dislodging all manner of earth and stone, and displacing trees as he sat up and rubbed the eye you'd placed your hand on. 

He was made of rocks, and appeared to be human at some point, but was larger than any person you'd met. He dwarfed you, and when he looked down, his eyes were as wide as your head. He spoke in a sharp tone. "Can I help you? Or are you just staring for fun?"

"Oh, I'll be on my way. Sorry again for bugging you." You bowed, and he huffed at you. 

"Oh, goodness, girl." He placed one rocky hand at your back, disapproving of your bow. It was cold, but you straightened at his touch. "You must bow at the waist. Don't they teach kids anything these days?"

You tried to bow, it looked better but not perfect. 

"Good enough." He waved you away and laid back down, settling into his resting place, the dirt around him disturbed. He pulled a curtain of moss from a large boulder and covered himself with it. "Goodbye."

You smiled at the spirit and tried to bow properly as you backed up into the forest. 

You were met with something delicious carried on the air. It smelled like home. 

You followed your nose and were met with a clearing. The sun of the spirit world shone brightly, illuminating the outcropping in sparkling clarity. You felt calming energy radiating from it, originating from a man in the middle, pouring two cups of tea. He was not a spirit. He was visiting, just like you. 

He wore Fire Nation clothing, and it startled you at first. 

"I will not harm you, young Michi." His voice was serene but deep in tone. He didn't turn to you, though a reassuring smile played on his lips. 

" _Michi_?" You scratched your head and responded sourly. "That's not my name." 

"I didn't mean to offend. Come, have a seat."

You hesitantly walked to the center, the forest's grass, like fur against your soles. You sat in front of the old man, who offered you a steaming fresh cup of tea. You sniffed it and were met with a sweet, herbal aroma. You let out an audible hum of approval. 

You wrapped your small fingers around the handle of the ornate cup and nodded graciously.

"What brings you here?" The man asked the question with genuine interest. 

Your voice was small. "I just like it here." You shrugged, looking at him skeptically. 

"I do too. It's peaceful. Oh! I have cake too if you desire. I'll have some too, I don't have to worry about my waistline while I'm here." He laughed heartily, patting his round stomach, and you couldn't help but smile too. 

He cut a small slice of yellow cake with berries on top, serving the sweet on a wooden plate, and placed it in front of you. Then he helped himself. 

"The spirits love the tea I brew too." He looked at the tea in his hands reverently before sipping. 

"You serve tea to spirits?" Your eyes were wide as you blew on your steaming beverage. 

"I do. I don't come here as often as I would like, but as a gesture of goodwill, I always serve tea to spirits who want it." He sipped his tea, a look of peace crossing his eyes. "Oh my apologies, I didn't introduce myself, my name is Iroh, young one."

You sipped too and relished the warmth that spread through your body. It was just a little bit sweet, with earthy notes of pine and berries. You didn't have a refined palate for such things, being only 11 at the time. To you, it just tasted delicious. 

You gave your name. 

"But you can call me Michi if you want." You said bashfully, suddenly feeling bad for snapping at the man. 

He grinned at you and explained, "Michi means path. And it would seem that you are a path between this world and the physical one."

"Hm, Michi," you tried it out on your tongue. "Mister Iroh, why are you here?"

He placed his cup down, and a look of wistful sadness crossed his visage. "I came here looking for someone."

"Who? Maybe _I_ can help you find them!" You offered. 

He smiled at your enthusiasm. "My son, Lu Ten." 

"What happened to him?"

"He died." He looked off into the distance, remembering a painful time. 

"Oh." Your pause was too long, as you looked down. "I'm sorry." Was all you could manage. 

He nodded in recognition. "I miss him, dearly. He was lost to senseless violence, and I felt that perhaps if I found him, I could tell him that I'm sorry. Though, I'm beginning to think that he knows." 

"Why do you say that?" You asked. 

"It's a feeling that I get, deep inside." He touched his chest. 

"You see, Michi, No matter how far, you're linked by invisible threads of fate to the people that you care about. Those bonds can never be broken, through death or time or distance… they're always with you, connected on that thread. If he and I are connected, he must know how I feel. I must learn to accept that I may never see him again." He touched his heart and bowed his head, a single tear sliding from his eyes. 

"I think Lu Ten knows, too, Mister Iroh." You offered him a sad smile. 

You let the silence sit in the air, and he looked at you. "It's strange, really. That you came here on the same day that I came to this realization. Perhaps it was fate. I think, young one, that today I learned that wisdom begins when you accept things as they are."

You hummed in acknowledgment and nodded, committing his words to memory. 

"Mister Iroh, you mentioned strings of fate that tie us together, do you think we share a thread now too?"

He laughed, and it broke the seriousness. His joy was infectious. "Of course! I've served you tea, we've shared time together, we must have a string!"

Iroh leaned in towards you. "Michi, do you know how to get back home?" 

A small spark of panic swelled within you, and the birds in the trees, surrounded in halos of light, flew away, disturbed by the shift in your demeanor. The sound of the rustling leaves made you look up, and a rain cloud appeared. 

_Perhaps you didn't know how to get back. How silly of you._

Iroh calmed you. "It's alright," he sipped on his cup, making a small slurping sound. Severity marked his brow. "Be warned, young one. When you come here, you must have a plan. If you come here without intent, it can be difficult to find your way out. Now, the tea I served you, it's an Earth Nation brew." 

"That's _my_ home!" You chirped with a grin. 

He chuckled, and the birds returned to their trees, preening their feathers and cawing. 

"I could tell. The amazing thing about this tea is that, for the drinker, it thins the veil between the spirit veil and the physical world, allowing you to pass through more freely. It connects you to the earth, grounding you back into your body. You must go through, Michi, while the veil is still thin, and it's easy for you to return." 

You finished your tea with a final gulp and relished the idea that you'd made a friend. From the Fire Nation of all places. You stood and bowed to Iroh. "Thank you, Mister Iroh." 

He bowed back. "You're very welcome, Michi. Perhaps we'll meet again someday. Safe travels to you." 

~ ~ ~

You weren't sure how long you'd been in the spirit realm this time, but you felt like you were becoming part of the scenery.

Time wasn't quite the same in this plane, night and day could both last much longer than you thought it should, or sometimes it would be maddeningly short. You found solace in the paths you made in the ground. 

When you began to make the paths that helped you get back to your makeshift base, you missed your bending. The feeling of the earth shifting with your will and your connection to your surroundings. Entering the spirit realm took your Earthbending away from you.

Earth was what you imagined when you meditated. The feeling of your energy spreading beneath you, connecting you to the material world. Then, you would step away from your body, and you were ascended and in the spirit world. Plant your roots, and away you go. 

Only this time, you hadn't intended to go. You were carrying groceries home for your family, and suddenly you were here. It was jarring. 

At that point, you stopped trying to escape. 

Trying to escape only seemed to key up your emotions when fear and hopelessness began to take over, then the spirits would begin to anger, feeding off your energy and turning dark and jagged, and their tendencies became violent. 

You had to keep the peace, for your sake and theirs. 

_Michi._

That's what the old man had called you. You were the path between worlds. Someone who could walk freely in and out of it. It became a nickname for you when you were younger and you came back home after meeting Iroh, and your friends and family liked it too. 

You followed your oft traveled dirt path and saw something new. Something you didn't recognize. 

A tower of flat rocks perched precariously on one another. The spaces in between each stone should've rendered it structurally unsound, and yet it remained despite the crevices between each rock. 

You blinked a few times. You'd seen far stranger things in this realm, but something about this unnerved you. 

The spirit atop the rocks was unrecognizable. The first thing you saw was long, flowing white hair, with a comb in it that held half of it in a bun on the top of his head. He wore long red and gold robes that you recognized as Fire Nation. This would've made you turn tail immediately, if not for the incredible amount of spiritual energy that radiated from his form.

You were curious, even more so when he turned to you, eyes glowing. The wind around you began to whip, and the spirits that normally flitted about carelessly cleared the area around the man.

He was old, but he didn't look frail. When he spoke, it shook you to your metaphorical bones with its depth and clarity. It was a low voice that seemed to hold generations of wisdom and knowledge. Your breath caught in your chest. 

You knew he was the Avatar. 

"Come. I must speak to you."

You hesitated at first, but who were you to deny the Avatar, of all people. You got to the stack and stopped, feeling as if you tried to climb the rocks, they would surely fall. 

"You must trust me. The rocks will hold." 

You took a deep breath and began to climb. 

The rocks were uncharacteristically warm and did not shift or move under your grasp. When you reached the top, you looked out onto the horizon, realizing you were much further from the ground than you thought you'd be. The path you had made from above looked like a worm, small and squiggly. You swallowed a nervous lump that formed in your throat.

You turned to the red-robed man and bowed. 

He nodded low as well, in greeting. "I'm Avatar Roku. I require your help."

You were stunned, but you tried to hide it. "I'm honored, but… I don't know what I can do to help you."

"Do you know why you're here?" His face revealed no emotion. 

"No," you responded. "It happened suddenly, and I've been wandering aimlessly."

"You were sent here after the most recent Avatar awoke from his slumber. It is part of your destiny to take part in his path to bring balance to the world. Your soul entered the spirit world to prepare you for what is to come, and to ready you for your quest."

There was a long pause as you pondered. " _Me_? What can I do?" 

"There is someone whose destiny it is to find the Avatar and aid him. You are to find him and guide him on this quest."

"I... understand. I'll do my best. I just don't know if you have the right person to help you." 

"It can only be you, it's your destiny." 

You nodded. "H-how will I find him?" 

"He will find you." 

You looked surprised. "How will I know it's him? Who is he?" 

"You will feel it, your spirit form will tell you." 

You felt your form shake like you were being ripped from this realm. You trembled and fell to the rock below you, onto your hands and knees. 

"Wait, Roku, what do you mean? Who is he?" 

There was no time for his answer, before you were greeted by shocked amber eyes. 

Then you knew. 

~ ~ ~ 

Zuko tapped his foot repeatedly, a scowl creasing his face. A low grumble was escalating to a near growl in his throat. 

Iroh stroked his beard, then picked up two oblong spherical fruits in his hands. "Which of these cantamelons look most ripe to you, Lee?" 

Zuko blinked a couple times, still not quite used to their pseudonyms. 

"They both look fine, just pick one!" He seethed. 

Iroh knocked on each melon and held his ear to it. 

"Hm, no, nephew. I was once told by a reputable cabbage man that if the cantamelon sounds hollow, it is ripe and juicy inside." He closed his eyes and knocked firmly on each one, holding it to the sides of his head. "This will be the one." He handed a fruit to the man attending the stall, who placed it in their basket. 

"Okay, that'll be two coins!" The man clapped his hands together excitedly. 

"That's fine, let's just go." Zuko's arms were crossed sourly. He looked up and down the street and found that the people of this small town were jovial. So jovial that it made his mood more bitter. He huffed through his nose as a man played a horn and a woman danced, the bells attached to her dress ringing joyously. 

The happiness of this town would be infectious, if Zuko weren’t immune. 

Iroh felt his pockets for the coins they had on hand but found his pockets were empty. The boy checked his own, and groaned, hunching over. 

Zuko felt a growing panic. He hated this. He wasn't used to not having his basic needs met and having to scrape to get by. He felt like people were looking at the two of them, and taking pity on them. 

He was not one to be pitied. 

Before Zuko had a chance to speak in frustration, the man working the fruit stand waved his hand merrily. "Please don't worry about it. Just take the fruit. Take some extra too!" 

Iroh looked surprised. "Are you positive?" 

"Yes! It's what our chieftess would want on this glorious day." 

Iroh began stacking fruits in his basket, and Zuko looked impatient still.

"Yeah, what is going on today?" The nephew asked, watching people laugh and sing through the streets. The sun was beginning to set, and children with lanterns started to litter the path around them. 

"It's our chieftess' daughter's birthday! She wanted it to be special this year, considering the state of the poor girl." Iroh stopped stuffing fruit into his basket. 

"Oh no, what happened to her?" The elder asked. 

Zuko sighed. He was tired of hearing everyone's life story. 

"They suspect she's lost in the spirit realm." He dipped his head sadly. "She's been just like she's meditating, or asleep, for a few months now. They don't think she'll be long for this world." His demeanor brightened. "She is a kind and charitable girl, so her mother asked all of us to be especially gracious today. When she was awake, she would carry messages from us to the spirit realm for those we've lost. The chieftess wants all of us to pay her a visit to wish her well. I know you're out-of-towners, but you should go to her."

"No, thank you," Zuko muttered to the man. "Come on, _Mushi_." 

"I think we should go visit," Iroh nodded. 

"Absolutely not, we can't visit every town's chieftain or priest or whatever. It draws attention to us." 

"Nephew, it's good for the soul to meet a variety of people in this life. It's how you grow as a person." 

Zuko didn't respond. 

Iroh decided to try another tactic. "You know, the Avatar would visit a variety of people, and if you're trying to _capture_ the Avatar, you must learn to _think_ like the Avatar." 

Zuko stopped in tracks and grunted in acknowledgment. 

"Perhaps you're right. Fine. But don't let it take all day." 

"Of course not." 

~ ~ ~ 

The line to visit with the chieftess' daughter was a long one. 

Zuko sighed and huffed as the evening carried on. Children like fireflies bobbed up and down the street with their lanterns. The young man watched the flames, tendrils of residual heat occasionally meeting his skin. 

If he were honest with himself, the town was peaceful. He didn't hate it entirely, and something was calming about a village where no one knew your name. 

Or your shame. 

His uncle seemed more upbeat than usual. "I met a young child with gifts like this girl once. Very sweet, with so much power."

The boy didn't respond. There was always the tiniest ember of jealousy in his gut when his uncle spoke about others with admiration. 

Zuko wondered to himself if Iroh would talk about him like that to others. If he was proud of him. 

The boy could not imagine anyone being proud of him. 

After Zuko's many long sighs and huffs and general indignant complaining, the two were next. 

They stood outside a small pagoda temple, with three-tiered roofs between the floors. Zuko and Iroh bowed before the temple guards. 

"You first." The guard motioned at Zuko, "one at a time." 

Zuko hesitated with surprised eyes. Iroh gave him a gentle push, and the guards ushered him in and up the stairs to the top floor. The door where she waited was covered in flowers and there were lanterns lit along the walls, guiding the visitor to the room. 

"I'm not even sure how this works!" 

The temple guards looked at each other with incredulous eyes. 

"Alright, so you walk in and bow before her, then give her your message." 

"How?" 

"There's paper in the room, you write it down and lay it in front of her." They rushed him a bit. "C'mon kid, people are waiting in line." 

The prince was nervous, and he couldn't place why. He entered the room, and the guards closed the door behind him. Incense smoke bit his nose. 

The chieftess's daughter sat on a ceremonial pillow. Her legs were crossed, and it was true what the fruit stand man said. She looked asleep, or like she was meditating. It was unnerving to think that she was merely somewhere else, transcended, and lost. All around her sat what looked like a field of white and black flowers, but they were just notes. Some were folded up in meticulous patterns that turned them into shapes. Some were birds, others were flowers and animals. 

Zuko immediately disliked her. He thought about how many people idolized her and practically worshipped her. He felt her life must be so easy-breezy. 

At least before she became lost.

His teeth were bared in disgust. "These people are foolish. They think that if they write some stupid note that spirits will be able to read it?" 

He stopped for a moment, looking at the paper and the ink well that sat on a small table.

He thought of his mother, and the scowl faded. 

If she had died, if that was her fate, perhaps this girl, this bridge between worlds could send her a message. 

Without confidence, he picked up a piece of paper and wrote a message on it. Then, he didn't like his penmanship and crumpled it up in his hand, frowning. 

He wrote it again. 

_Mom,_

_I miss you, and love you._

_I hope I make you proud._

_Your son,_

_Zuko_

He hesitated before bowing in front of the girl, feeling stupid. He sat in front of the dozens of paper shapes and began to fold his own design. His mother had shown him how to make a lotus flower out of paper, and he vaguely remembered. 

The origami bloom did not look the prettiest, but it would work. 

He placed it on the floor. 

There was a long silence before the girl gasped in front of him, and Zuko jumped to his feet. 

The chieftess' daughter's eyes opened, and she sat up straighter, clutching her chest. Her breaths heaved, and she doubled over. 

She could feel it deep within herself. A tug or a pull at the root of her soul. A signal that her destiny was right in front of her. 

When she looked up, she was met with golden eyes the color of amber, widened in surprise. The burn on his left eye was little different than her own that stained her arms. She gripped her arms through her long gloves instinctively. 

He went to her, helping her to sit up, his hand on her back. She smelled of jasmine and temple incense. He didn’t understand what was happening, but she looked at him with intensity. 

The words struggled to leave her throat, she rasped dryly. 

"I can help you find the Avatar." 

  
  
  
  



	2. To Seek Your Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Thank you for all the love on my last chapter! I am having so much fun writing this fic! Writing all of these characters is so enjoyable. 
> 
> Angsty Zuko and Best Uncle™ Iroh ahead <3
> 
> (And a lot of talk of Destiny)

_In The Spirit World: Before the Awakening_

You awoke, still in the spirit world. You had tried to fall asleep, hoping you would wake up in the physical world once more. However, that theory was bunk.

You put your head in your hands and thought your mother must be losing her mind. She wouldn’t trust you to go anywhere on your own if you were just going to collapse and get yourself into trouble.

And during something so simple as grocery shopping. You groaned.

First, your father and now…

She can’t handle another loss.

The desperation and pain of your energy began to turn the spirits around you harsh and vile, their once beautiful and glowing aura’s becoming more void-like and dark.

You crossed your legs, still in your makeshift tent. You placed your fists together and bowed your head.

You took a deep breath into your diaphragm and exhaled. With your sigh, the spirits shifted back into their original forms, full of life.

You opened one eye and looked at your gloved hands. They were long, up to your elbow, and emerald green. Your mother had sewn them herself. You sighed, because they were now tattered and ripped, and you could see your scarred skin through the fabric. You peeled them off and put them in a heap on your tent floor.

“Guess I won’t need these here.” You muttered. You ran your hands up and down your arms, feeling the marks on your skin.

You exited your tent with a big stretch. It was a long time since you slept on the ground, and even with the relative softness of the earth here, it made you stiff.

You noticed a sizeable white pile on the ground, and it reminded you of flowers. You cocked your head to the side and walked over to it.

It was your villager’s notes. You gasped.

“How is that possible?” You said to no one.

Your work is never truly complete.

In the spirit world, there’s a river.

It’s called the River of the Grieved. Legend says that if you send a message to your lost loved one along the river, they will receive it.

You weren’t one for legends, really. However, you enjoyed the peace that it gave your town to know that their message will be sent, even if it never meets its destination.

You fashioned a basket out of leaves and wood. It was shoddily put together, but it would suffice. Typically, you’d bring your satchel.

The walk to the river was treacherous. Through knotted woods and rocky coves, you made your way there, taking everything you had with you.

When you finally made it to the river, you looked upon it reverently. You were always surprised by how cloudy the surface of the water was. Like it was made of cobwebs or cotton.

You sat at the bank and began to lay out the notes, placing them on the sandy ground delicately.

Then, you released them, one by one, into the river.

“Find them,” you’d whisper, steadying them into the water with both hands. They would drift upon the foam before disappearing to somewhere unbeknownst to you.

You wouldn’t have heard the boy approach you, as his feet were as light as air, but you felt him.

He emanated strong, positive energy. You gasped when you felt it, surprised. You turned and almost laughed because you expected someone more… intimidating… but laughing would have been profoundly disrespectful.

There were whispers among the spirits that the Avatar had returned, but you didn’t believe them. Sometimes they were tricky, so you took heed not to trust their words about such vital matters.

He was a small boy, bald, with an arrow on his head and on his hands. When you looked at him, he smiled as he came closer.

You stood and bowed low, and he shifted in the sand uncomfortably.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that! Uh… I’m Aang.” He smiled nervously and avoided looking at you, bowing at him.

You straightened back out. “Oh, okay, sorry I just... uh, I’m Michi.” You rubbed the back of your neck nervously and felt silly for bowing. “Wow! You’re the Avatar... Avatar Aang.”

He laughed, and it was a musical sound that rubbed off on you. You smiled, and the nerves faded.

“Yeah, that’s what they told me anyway. What are you doing?”

“I-uh… I’m sending messages from my village. This is the River of the Grieved.” You motioned broadly at it.

“Wow… I’ve heard of this place.” You both stared at it for a while. “Do the spirits really read the messages?”

“I don’t know,” you responded quietly. “I’d like to think they do, but how would we know? My mom tells me they do, though.” You looked down sadly and closed your eyes.

Would she have to write you messages from now on? Would you ever see her again?

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“No.” You looked out into the water, picked up one of the notes, and released it into the river. You watched it bob and weave before sinking into the rapids. “I’m lost, actually. Something happened, and now I’m stuck here. Can… can you help me?”

“I’m sorry.” He answered. “I don’t have much I can do here to help. All my bending is gone, and I just found out all my teachers are…” he sighed, “dead. I’m kind of learning as I go.”

“Oh... I’m so sorry, Aang.”

His eyes were downcast and solemn. “Can I… write a note to my teacher?”

“Let me see…” you felt around your robes for paper or charcoal for him to write with. You turned your pockets out, and they were empty. You looked in your makeshift basket and saw an unmarked piece of paper and charcoal.

You hadn’t recalled them being there before. You quirked an eyebrow at the suspicious writing utensil and parchment.

“Here!” You grabbed them and handed them to the Avatar.

“Thanks.”

He sat down on the shore and wrote a note.

He held it out in front of him and stared at it. “His name was Monk Gyatso.”

“I hope he sees it.” You smiled warmly. “Many people like to fold their notes before sending them off if you wanted.”

He pondered for a moment and then folded it into a small boat.

“Do you want to send it off?” You asked.

“Will it still get to him if you don’t send it?” He looked worried.

“I’m just the messenger, the river does all the work.”

“Okay.” He held the boat carefully with both hands and knelt over the river’s edge. “Safe travels.” He lowered it into the water, and it sailed along the rapids before succumbing to the waves.

He stayed by the water for a while. You didn’t pry.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here, Michi.” He sat by the waves and drew designs in the sand. “If… I find a way to get you out, I will. I promise.”

You sat down next to him. “I believe you.” You gave him a light shove and a playful grin. “Now get out of here, Avatar. You have a world to save.”

He unexpectedly crashed his small body into yours, surprising you with a crushing hug.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, before giggling.

“Thank you for helping me.” He leaned away with a contented smile. “Good luck.”

Then, it was just you and your many paper messages.

**~ ~ ~**

The guards busted into the temple room, the smoke of the incense whirling around with the force of the door’s opening. They were appalled to see the young man supporting your back.

“Get away from her!” Their voices were furious and worried. They ran to your side, checking you over for injuries. They shouted at the scarred boy. “What did you do?”

“N-nothing!” He responded, anger and fear tingeing his voice. “She just woke up on her own.”

You tried to find your words, anything to exonerate the person who may have unwittingly pulled you from the spirit world.

“You’re coming with us.” They gathered around and gripped him by his biceps, dragging him to his feet.

You looked up at him, still catching your breath, and he set his jaw and looked down at you with a strange mix of frustration and curiosity.

They escorted him out, hands bound behind his back.

You heard a voice, one so familiar and one you missed deeply while you were away. “What happened?” She cried. “Is she okay?”

Your words found their way out. You felt like a young child again, crying out for your mother. Tears began to stream from your eyes.

“Mom!” You croaked.

“Michi? Oh, Michi!” She ran into the room, her eyes so much like your own, and passed the damaged door. She cleared away some notes that littered the floor and collapsed at her knees, taking your face into her hands. “Oh, dear girl, you’re back!”

“I am!” You looked past her. “I… that boy...”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” She looked over your body, only redness around your knees from the pressure of the ground.

“No, mom. I’m okay. I think… I think he saved me somehow.”

“Spirits bless him then… I… I couldn’t stand to lose you too.” She touched your cheek, wiping away your tears with her fingers.

“I’m here, mom.” You embraced her, newly formed tears darkening her robes.

**~ ~ ~**

Iroh looked in from the doorway, after watching Zuko be taken away.

He wasn’t worried about whether his nephew would make it out, surely it was all a misunderstanding, and they would free him.

He was surprised by his recognition of the Chieftess’s daughter. The small girl who long ago shared tea with him, upon his revelation that he wouldn’t see his son again. It would be impossible for him to forget her face.

Fate was a funny thing.

He startled a bit, afraid of what it would mean if she recognized him. How quickly they both would be arrested and sent to jail as political prisoners in Ba Sing Se.

When she looked up at him, though, there was no sign of recognition, only of kindness.

“Sir, if you have a message for someone, I can still take it.” She separated herself from her mother, wiping her eyes and smiling.

He stepped into the room, the smell of smoke and perfumes filled his nose with peace and calm. He didn’t let the relief show on his face when she didn’t recognize him.

“I don’t have a message to send today, Miss.” he bowed. “However, Chieftess, my nephew was the one who was taken away just now. If he is innocent, could you please have him freed?”

“Oh, of course!” The Chieftess got to her feet, wiping her own tears away. She dusted off her robes and straightened her headdress. “Please, come with me!” She led the elder to the jail, across the small town.

**~ ~ ~**

Zuko raged as the temple guards threw him in a jail cell after releasing his bonds.

“You’re not listening to me!” He yelled, “I didn’t hurt her! She just woke up on her own!”

“Then why were your grubby little hands all over her?” One guard accused him, his thin mustache reminded Zuko of chopsticks.

The words made him turn red in shame. “I did _not_ have my hands _all over her!_ I was just trying to help her!”

“Uh-huh, _sure_!” The bearded guard waved him off, and they turned away, twirling the keys on his finger. His partner snickered. “I knew he was trouble, sketchy when he first showed up.”

Zuko angrily yelled and shook the bars. He thought proudly that he could break out if the opportunity presented itself.

Fools.

He sat down on the cold, wooden bench in his cell, his eyes downcast and head bowed. He thought of that girl, this bridge between worlds, or whatever.

_“I can help you find the Avatar.”_

What did she mean? How could someone like her help someone like him? And why? He didn’t trust her.

But what if?

His thoughts were interrupted by the guards, and a woman he assumed was the Chieftess, accompanied by Iroh.

“You must be Lee,” she greeted warmly. “I am Chieftess Sahra. My daughter said you may have been the one to save her. Guards, let him out.” They pouted but obliged.

“Thanks,” Zuko responded plainly, leaving the jail.

“Your uncle said you were refugees. I invite you to stay at our inn, at no cost to you. We’d also like to have you for a late tea.”

“No, thanks, we need to get going.”

“I insist.” She turned, giving Zuko no time to argue.

The boy grumbled. Someone like her commanding him around was not acceptable.

But he wasn’t the prince anymore.

She led the two to a house, more sizable than the rest but still relatively small. Inside, Zuko could hear his uncle laughing.

“That’s _incredible_ , Michi!” He slapped the table joyously, responding to something she said out of earshot. Zuko was beginning to dislike this girl again.

“Come, nephew. Have a seat!” Iroh gestured to an open chair next to him, grinning widely.

“We need to leave.”

“Don’t be silly; we only just poured our tea.” He sipped from a warm cup and sighed. “Delicious.”

The Chieftess entered carrying pastries, placing them in the center of the table.

“I’m surprised you don’t have servants,” Zuko commented, taking a pastry and sniffing it before sitting next to his uncle.

“We don’t like the idea of servitude here,” Michi commented. “It’s unjust to treat someone as lesser than you because you were born into a different family with more means. We lead _with_ our people.”

Zuko rolled his eyes.

“You’re very wise for your age,” Iroh said. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen today, actually.”

“Same as Lee.”

“Great,” Lee said sarcastically.

The girl had a thoughtful look on her face and hesitated before speaking. “I have something to say.” The rest of the table looked at her. Zuko clenched his fist, nervously out of view. “When I was in the spirit world, I met with Avatar Roku. He gave me a task.”

The Chieftess gasped, her hand going to her mouth. “Spirits,” she exclaimed, “What sort of task?”

“He said a young man would seek me out to help him find the Avatar. He said I would feel when it was him,” she put her hand on her heart. “It’s you, isn’t it?” She looked at Zuko with curious eyes that seemed to look through him. “You’re trying to find him?”

“Why are you looking for the Avatar, boy?” The Chieftess asked.

There was a short silence, and Zuko looked like a deer in the headlights, then Iroh spoke. “Lee is a skilled spiritual guide, Sahra. The Avatar is without a spiritual teacher, and it is his destiny to guide him so he can connect with his past Avatar incarnations.”

“Wow.” Michi was struck by the weighty task. “That’s incredible, Lee.”

“Yeah.” Zuko looked at his uncle and then picked at his pastry, it’s flaky crust making a mess on his plate.

Is this what his life was now? Lying to save his skin?

“Did anything else happen, Michi?”

“A lot happened, but... one other thing sticks out.” She looked down. “I lost many of my memories of previous Spirit World travels. Not all of it, but some of it is hazy. Roku said that pulling me there was to prepare me for this moment. Maybe that’s part of it, but… I wish I could remember.”

Zuko thought she looked pretty when she was sad. He thought perhaps she was perfect, and it angered him.

”How can _you_ help me find the Avatar?” Zuko asked, perhaps with more bitterness than he intended. 

“I’ve met Aang a few times before, actually.” Michi ignored his tone. “I can sense his presence, and it’s incredibly strong and hard to miss.” 

Zuko hummed in acknowledgement, a tinge of suspicion lacing the sound. 

“We would love to have Michi join us, honorable Chieftess.” Iroh bowed his head. Sahra’s eyebrows were creased with concern. 

“I have to go with them, mom.” Michi gripped her mother’s hands, pleading. 

“Michi… I-”

“It’s my destiny. It’s not something I can deny. I have to, as Avatar Roku asked.”

She didn’t answer, only sitting quietly, her head bent.

“Please.” The girl sounded exasperated, her eyes desperate.

“I can’t lose you too.” Her mother said in a whisper.

“I’ll be okay. I can take care of myself.”

Chieftess Sahra held her daughter’s hand, then pulled her in for a hug. Her tears streamed down her cheeks, and she stroked her hair. “Pack your things.”

“We’ll leave in the morning, Michi,” Iroh said.

The girl excused herself from the table and shot Zuko a small smile. “Perhaps you could teach me a few things, Lee.” She went to her sleeping quarters to pack her things.

He didn’t respond.

“You’d best take care of my girl, Mushi.”

“Of course, Sahra.”

**~ ~ ~**

You didn’t sleep that night, as the fate of the world felt heavy on your mind.

When the sun began to rise, you grabbed your things. You brought some parchment, charcoal, and a sleeping bag. Your mother gave you some food for the group and supplies, and fresh, clean water in a waterskin.

You looked around your house one last time and breathed it in. You would miss it, but it was time for the next chapter.

You stepped outside, your mother waiting with three ostrich-horses.

“Michi, I want to give you one last thing.” She held it behind her back, then brought it forward.

It was a sword.

“Your father crafted it himself when he was a young man, not much older than you, really.” She presented it with reverence, held across both of her hands. Its sheath was a deep forest green, interlaced with gold trim. You took it into your hands, surprised by the weight.

You pulled it out, the steel bright and perfectly cleaned. An inscription read, “May you always strike true.”

You resheathed it and held it close to your chest.

“Thank you, mom.” You hugged her one last time. “I’ll be safe. Don’t worry about me.”

As you rode away on your ostrich-horses, waving goodbye to what you knew, you were one step closer to your destiny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know your thoughts, hearing from you guys really helps keep me motivated and it’s so much fun to know your reactions. 
> 
> I hope you’re all staying safe out there. 
> 
> Much love,
> 
> PTW <3


	3. Honorable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! 
> 
> I appreciate all of you who left kudos and bookmarks and comments on my last chapter! It means so much to me.  
> I am thoroughly enjoying writing this fic and can't wait to post more! 
> 
> Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Everything happened so fast and was so jarring, it was like your brain had whiplash. It felt like just as soon as you’d awakened from your slumber, you were on a journey with relative strangers. Though, this did not deter you from the excitement that fueled you. You were ready to help the Avatar in any way you knew how, even if it meant dealing with Lee.

Lee’s sour attitude didn’t keep you from trying to make the best of your travels. You and Mushi often took to singing to pass the time on your ostrich horses.

“It’s a long, long way,” you sang.

“To Ba Sing Se…” Mushi continued.

“But the girls in the city,” you clutched your chest, adding feeling to your singing.

“They look so prett-ay!” Mushi finished.

You both burst into raucous laughter, and you could hear Lee seething with a grumble under his breath.

Through the plains, you traveled until you came across a forest just outside of a small town.

“This looks like a good place to rest.” You nodded. There already appeared to be a torn down camp left by someone else.

You slid off your ostrich-horse and appraised the site. Lee was off of his mount and standing next to it, a farmer’s hat shading his face from the late afternoon sun. Mushi wore one too as he led his ostrich-horse to a tree, tying its reins to a branch and petting it.

The space was clear of debris. However, the grass was worn away, and a patch of dirt remained, surrounded by stones. You licked your lips and set your stance, wide and stable. With one solid stomp of your foot, a crude tent was formed from slabs of the earth that erupted from the ground. It was large enough for the three of you and then some.

“There,” you said proudly, rubbing your hands together. “That should be good for us, right?”

“Sure,” Lee impatiently responded.

“Yes, definitely, Michi. Thank you.” Mushi added.

You ignored Lee’s tone and chose to avoid speaking to him unless he spoke to you, at least until he was less hostile toward you. You didn’t understand why he was so angry with you. You unpacked your things.

In your satchel, you noticed your mother had included some notes from your village to deliver to the river.

You grinned brightly.

“What? Why are you smiling like that?” Lee asked.

“Oh!” You hadn’t realized you were smiling. “My mom packed some notes that remained from my village. She probably wanted me to have a little bit of home with me. I’ll take them tonight.”

“Where do you take them?” Mushi seemed genuinely interested, whereas Lee seemed to ask because your smile annoyed him.

“The River of the Grieved in the spirit world.” You explained. “Supposedly notes sent there are meant to meet their recipient.”

“Sounds like an old folktale,” Lee mumbled.

“Could be,” you responded. “But my village appreciates it.”

“You’re giving them false hope,” Lee leaned against the wall of the earthen tent and looked out into the woods. “It’s cruel.”

His words ruminated in your brain until it made you seethe.

“What’s your deal?” You snapped. “You’re criticizing a culture you know nothing about.”

You wondered if he was right. If what you’re doing is wrong and somehow harmful.

“I don’t need to understand your culture to know when I see a peddler of _lies_.”

You stood to your feet quickly and breathed, eyes closed. With a sigh, your anger deflated. Your eyes opened, and the scarred boy glanced at you sideways. “I give them hope, Lee. I don’t think that’s wrong.” You slung your satchel over your shoulder. “I’ll be back.” You left the tent, your villager’s notes in tow. Into the woods, you went as the sun began to set.

**~ ~ ~**

Zuko watched her leave, and the sun painted the woods in warm orange and purple tones. It made her robes look regal and almost magical.

He was thinking about the note he’d written himself, and if it too was in her satchel. What if she read it? What if she thought he was weak?

It angered him, and he turned his back on her.

He wished she’d yell at him, anything other than her calm indignation. He wanted Michi to show him that she wasn’t so damn “ _mature_ ” or “ _incredible_ ” like his uncle had said.

Anything to show Zuko that she wasn’t _perfect_.

“Can you believe her?” The boy hissed.

“You should be kinder to her, Zuko.” The elder lit a small fire with his bending inside a stone circle.

“Why should I? She’s done nothing to earn it.”

Iroh nodded with a hum of acknowledgment. “She’s done nothing to earn your contempt, either.”

“She thinks she’s so special and important, I’ve seen how she looks at me.” He kicked some dirt with a scowl.

The two were quiet as Iroh filled his teapot with water.

“Perhaps we should tell her the truth about who we are.” Iroh placed his teapot over the fire as he said this, a small smile forming at the anticipation of his warm beverage.

“What? No.” The boy marched over to his uncle, across the fire from him. “She’ll turn us in, she can’t be trusted with that knowledge.”

“Perhaps,” he looked past the fire at his nephew, thinking Zuko looked much like his own brother when anger crossed his face, “or perhaps if we trust her with that information, she’ll surprise us with her own trust.” The tea began to steam. “There is never trust without loss, Prince Zuko. But! The reward of trust has the potential to be greater than anything you could lose. Friendship, allies, love. Priceless experiences.”

“No! I will not give up my identity to some Earth Nation girl that I barely know. I forbid it.”

Iroh shook his head, disappointed, but didn’t respond. The old man realized he wouldn’t get anywhere with his nephew when he was in such a mood.

Without another word, Zuko stomped off into the forest.

He was beginning to think his uncle was indeed crazy, as he’d heard before from Azula. Telling this girl a secret that could effectively get them _killed_? Stupid and insane.

Ahead of him, he saw a clearing and recognized Michi’s robes, and her hair tied elegantly away from her face. He didn’t make a sound, watching from his spot in the darkened trees, nighttime nearly upon them.

His gut sank when he noticed the tiniest shred of darkened skin peek from her gloves. Rose-colored flesh snaked out from the emerald fabric, up her arm. There was an imperfection, a slip in her façade. Michi noticed her skin too, as the gloves weren’t pulled taut.

Zuko watched her touch the scar, and pulled one glove the rest of the way down, revealing her hand. She pulled off the other to match, slowly, as if unwrapping a bandage.

Underneath her gloves were scars on her hands and arms, not unlike his own. Some of the burns had healed nicely, leaving only shiny flesh that almost matched the rest of her skin. Some were still a dark, angry pink. She clenched her fists, and closed her eyes, then released her grip with a breath.

Zuko touched the scarred skin on his own face with his fingertips. He thought about how it was someone just like him who hurt Michi. The self-loathing kicked in, and he wondered if she would hate him if she knew.

She reached into her satchel, pulling out her notes from the village. Zuko recognized one as his crumpled lotus flower that he’d written to his mother. His breath caught in his throat, and his jaw set tight as if willing it to disappear.

He cursed the girl under his breath, begging her internally to ignore it and not read it.

She held it in her hands, looking it over a little longer than the rest. Zuko wasn’t sure if Michi recognized it as his note, or if she was just looking at his poorly folded origami. The girl smiled, peace in her eyes, as she sat it directly in front of her feet. She crossed her legs, and Zuko decided he’d seen enough. Reading the notes wasn’t part of her ritual.

He turned to head back to camp, and a stick snapped under his foot. He cringed.

Michi jumped to her feet. “Who’s there?”

He almost kept walking but heard the familiar metallic sound of a sword being drawn.

She still hadn’t seen him. “Come out and fight me like a man!”

He looked through the woods to see Michi with a woefully improper sword stance. Her voice was shaky, and her eyes searched the trees. The tiniest smile crept onto his lips at how silly she looked.

“You’re holding your sword wrong.” Zuko emerged from the trees. The girl shouted in surprise, stamping the dirt with her foot. Stone shot from the ground in a column, knocking him into a tree with a thick thud and a grunt.

“Oh, _spirits_.” The girl’s hand went to her mouth as Zuko collected himself from the ground, dusting himself off with an irritated grimace. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“I’m _fine_.” He grumbled. “I won’t bother you anymore.” He turned away from Michi and prepared to go back to camp.

“Wait, Lee!” She called out. “You said I was holding my sword wrong?”

“You were,” he said hesitantly, turning back around. “Your sword is an extension of yourself. You’re an Earthbender. You can use your sword as a conduit for that.”

“Could you show me?” She asked the question as if preparing for a no.

“No.” He started to walk back to the campsite and then stopped, looking over his shoulder. “Maybe some other time.”

**~ ~ ~**

You watched him disappear into the forest, and you could hear his voice grumbling something indiscernible. You couldn’t help but let a smile across your face.

When you opened your eyes, freshly returned from the spirit world, your villager’s notes seemed to glow in the moonlight. You gathered them up, placing them back in your satchel, having taken their spiritual counterparts to the river. Then, you slid your gloves back on over your arms, the fabric giving you a familiar sense of security and sheltering you from the crisp feeling in the air. From where the moon sat in the sky, you could tell you were away for a few hours.

The fire was roaring when you returned, and you sat by it, warming your hands over it. Lee sat across from you, staring off into the woods.

You glanced at the food supplies still sitting by the fire. The two of them had eaten some of it, which made you smile. You noticed the hollows of Lee’s cheeks and wondered how long they’d been hungry. Mushi slept in the tent, and his snores echoed out into the night.

You reached into your food stores and pulled out a trail cake. Your mom often made the nutritious treats for the children in the village. Though you weren’t really a child anymore, you enjoyed the taste of home. A twinge of homesickness flashed in your gut when you finished it.

“I want you to tell me where the Avatar is.” Lee finally turned toward you, the fire making his amber-colored eyes glow.

“ _Hello_ to you, too,” you snarked. You pulled your hands away from the fire. “I can, but you have to understand that it only really works if he’s in the spirit world around the same time as me. It’s situational.”

“Then why did you tell me you could help me?” Lee snapped with a scowl.

“Because finding him _situationally_ is better than finding him _never_ , is it not?”

He sighed, and you took it as agreement.

“Can you check if he’s there now?”

You saw the desperation in his eyes, and it made you sad. You frowned at him and crossed your legs, your hands relaxed and palms up. You dipped your head and closed your eyes.

When you opened them, you were on top of the impossibly steady rock tower where you met Avatar Roku.

You took a steadying breath and placed your hand on the rock, smooth like paper under your touch. You remembered Aang’s energy, lively and almost overwhelming. Your other hand touched your heart, and you imagined that golden cord. The one that connects you to every spirit and human you’ve ever known.

A small fragment of words echoed around you, distorted and fuzzy.

_“...invisible threads of fate…”_

It sounded familiar like you’d heard it in a dream. The voice, while distorted, had a feeling of nostalgia and warmth.

You tried to cling to the words and take them in your hands and hear it more closely. It slipped through your fingers, and it was gone.

You refocused on Aang’s energy. How bright and powerful it was, and yet it contained itself in someone so small.

You pictured yourself reaching to the edges of the spirit world, across valleys and canyons, over mountains and oceans.

You couldn’t feel him nor his spirit. There wasn’t even a tendril of it.

You lifted your head and pulled yourself from the spirit world. The fire had died down a little, and Lee looked at you with anticipation. Mushi’s snores had become more like loud, hefty breaths.

“He wasn’t there,” you said, feeling a little lightheaded. You stabilized yourself against the ground.

“Did you even try?” The boy's jaw was set angrily.

“Look, I want you to find the Avatar too, Lee. The world depends on it.” You shook off the hazy feeling of overexertion. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“Well, do better!” He yelled, and Mushi stirred before falling back asleep.

“Why are you like this?” You asked, brows creased. “I know you need to find him for his spiritual journey, but there’s something else, isn’t there?”

He was quiet for a moment before his head bowed, and he turned away.

“Finding him is the only way to regain my honor.”

“Why do you feel like you’ve lost your honor?” Your voice was gentle, quiet under the roar of the flames.

He looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said finally. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“I’m not your enemy, I wish you knew that.” You looked at him, and you could see the pain in him: betrayal, loss, confusion. Not only in his scar but in his eyes, all in shades of gold. “Goodnight, Lee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! 
> 
> The next chapter will happen around the same time as Book 2: Episode 5, if you wanted to watch that before I post the next one. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think in the comments below! Comments really help keep me motivated and I love hearing from readers. ❤️
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> TWP


	4. Take Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This chapter happens at the same time as Book 2, Episode 5 if you want to watch that first. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it. 
> 
> ♥

**☽ ☽ ☽**

Zuko hated it when Michi looked at him sadly like that. When she looked at him like that, he imagined she thought he was pathetic.

He had trouble sleeping. He propped himself up against a tree, and drifted off finally, the crisp evening air soothing him and ruffling his hair.

He awoke to the sounds of the early morning earth shifting, and before he'd fully awakened, rocks shot out of the ground pinning him and his hands to the tree he slept against. Two men in tan, worn garb sidled into camp.

"Wake up! Bandits!" Zuko shouted with wide, furious eyes. He struggled against his earthly bonds. He heard shuffling in the tent as Michi and Iroh shot to their feet. The earth rumbled again, and the opening to their shelter was blocked by a rock.

The blockade broke with the force of Michi's bending, turning it into pebbles. The bandits absorbed her into the ground beneath her, up to her neck, before she had a chance to free Zuko. Michi yelled and struggled, trying to inch her way out. Iroh ran up to strike a bandit but was dispatched into a tree by a chunk of rock. He groaned as he hit the ground. Earth surrounded the elder around his torso, and he was pinned down.

"Looks like we hit the jackpot," one bandit said, getting his fill of food and supplies.

Before Zuko summoned fire to his hands, destructive power to shatter these rocks, he froze. Michi would know who he was, and she would effectively end their lives. He raged and yanked on his hands to free himself, and he heard his joints snap with the strain.

"Lookie here," one said, "ostrich horses." He scratched one under the chin. They cleared the camp efficiently and came across Michi's sword from her father.

The other spoke in a monotone voice. "Hey, a beautiful sword." He weighed it with his hands and tested the blade against his finger. "Sharp too."

"Leave that alone!" Michi pulled herself out of the ground, managing to get enough wiggle room with one arm to free herself with her bending. She flung her hand out to summon rocks at the men but was sunk back into the ground before the flick of her wrist, this time sinking her to above her head, crushing her.

"There, that should fix her." One of the bandits chuckled and turned away.

"Pull her out now!" Zuko shouted, anxiety washing over him.

They grabbed the last of their supplies and began to leave. They laughed while getting on two of the group's ostrich-horses.

"Fine." One bandit bent his arm, pointing his fingers where Michi sank, and she made it to the surface. She coughed, and dusty clouds filled the air. She wheezed for oxygen, dirt covering her skin and hair.

The two bandits rode off on their newly acquired ostrich horses.

"Michi! Free me!" Zuko raged.

Michi slapped her hand against the ground, lowering the stone columns that held him in place. He darted to the remaining ostrich horse and mounted it, snapping the reins. The ostrich horse bolted out of camp with Zuko, who made haste to track down the bandits.

**☽ ☽ ☽**

"Michi!" Mushi shouted from the dirt pile that surrounded him. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you sat up, finally catching your breath. You made it to your feet, and shifted them, the rocks and dirt sliding off Mushi's back. You walked over to him and helped him to his feet. "Are you okay?"

"Much better now, thanks to you."

"Should I go after him?"

"No, they're far away now."

"My father's sword..." you dipped your head and ran your fingers through your hair.

"Lee will find it."

You rekindled the dying fire and waited for Lee to return. You impatiently paced, while Mushi brewed tea, watching the sunrise. The bandits may have gotten the food, but the tea and the teapot remained.

You saw a trotting shape on the horizon, and as it got closer, you realized it was Lee.

He was without the rest of the ostrich horses, and your hope sank in your chest. His scowl made him look older, like a man on a warpath. "They used their bending to get across a canyon and got away. And now we're without food again!"

You felt selfish for thinking about your father's sword right now, but it was gone, and you'd likely never see it again.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Lee snapped.

"No." You didn't meet his eyes as you walked away from camp.

You were covered in dirt still, and uncomfortable. You could bend it off of your body; however, you couldn't shake the feeling of _grime_. You changed into underclothing, a green bandeau and shorts. Your feet were light as they padded down to the river. The water looked exceptionally crisp and clean under the rising sun, the stream running peacefully in a rhythmic rush that calmed your soul and distracted you from your thoughts. There was a small alcove where the river met the bank that was surrounded by rocks that skimmed above the water. You washed your clothing in it until the water from your clothes ran clear.

You washed your hair and body, then froze when you heard shifting in the woods.

You sank into the water, up to your mouth in the river. You watched something blue, obscured by the trees, move towards you. When the figure was bathed in sunlight, the blueness became more defined, and you saw a mask. It was adorned with a white, wide-mouthed smile, with fangs and thick eyebrows. It was startling, and you peeked out of the water further to get a better look.

"Who _are_ you?" Your voice sounded almost too loud in the quiet forest.

The person in the blue mask turned and left.

**☽ ☽ ☽**

If only she'd known about his firebending, Zuko could have saved their things. Now he would have to go hungry again. He thought about how right Iroh was, and how maybe telling her about who they are would've been better.

Then he thought again. Absolutely not. He'd seen the scars on Michi's hands and arms, she would have him arrested. She'd run back home to her chieftess mommy and call down the full wrath of the Earth Nation armies. She would have every right to hate them.

When he was the Blue Spirit, it seemed that all his insecurities melted away. He didn't have to think about what others thought when they saw his scar, a symbol of his shame. He didn't have to make eye contact with that girl, who gave him an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

He couldn't place what that feeling was.

He grabbed the mask from his things when Iroh wasn't looking and slipped it on in the forest.

He would do what he wanted because he was the Blue Spirit.

Past the river, he went on his way to a nearby town. He would do what he had to to survive. Begging was not something he would do anymore, no matter how desperate he was.

He heard the water bubbling and looked in through the trees to see the source. Michi was there, her dampened hair pressed against her neck and freshly cleaned. When she ducked into the water, he walked out of the trees, bringing herself back above the water.

The sun seemed to make her wet skin sparkle, and he was struck and paralyzed by what to do. He felt his face go hot, and he was glad he was wearing a mask.

Her voice was curious and warm, and he found himself wishing he could hear it more.

Zuko turned away, back to his mission, pulling his thoughts away from her.

She would judge him if she knew. Any of it, the Blue Spirit, his fire bending. What would she know of matters of honor? Michi's life was secure and comfortable, having grown up as practical royalty. He sneered from behind his grinning mask, but then it faltered.

He thought of the scars on her hands and arms and felt a tinge of shame.

From high on the rooftops of the nearby town, he found his mark.

The couple in the street should've been more careful, carrying food on a long pole? They made it easy to liberate. His dao swords sliced through the ropes, and the Blue Spirit was gone just as fast as he'd arrived. There was enough food in these barrels to last them a while.

He ran back near their base, his score in hand, and stopped by a tree whose roots made a pocket in the ground. He tucked his altered ego within it and returned to camp.

Michi's hair was almost dry by then. She sat by the fire, focusing on a rock in her hands. Upon closer inspection, Zuko could see that she was carving the stone with her fingers, making intricate designs. She held it away from herself, getting a better look at her sculpture, before focusing again more carefully.

"What are you doing?" Zuko asked, without bitterness or judgment.

"Carving statuettes to sell. We need food and supplies." She looked up and saw him sitting down two barrels of supplies in front of his uncle. "Though it looks like you took care of some of that."

Iroh spoke from the shelter, eyebrows creased. "Where did you get these?"

He scoffed at him. "What does it matter where they came from?"

Iroh hummed in acknowledgment before biting into a jelly donut from one of the barrels, and delightfully smiling at the flavor.

Michi stood up, stashing her statuettes in her satchel. "I'm headed to town."

"I'll come with you," Zuko responded. He did not say it with kindness or excitement, but more as a statement of fact.

She looked up at him, then nodded. "Fine."

**☽ ☽ ☽**

You sat in the middle of town, your statuettes displayed on a slab of stone as busy commoners bustled past you.

Lee stayed with you, saying nothing until the sun stood high in the sky, and your stomach rumbled. You'd made a few copper coins, looked at them in your hand, and sighed, disappointed.

"You're hungry," Lee stated. "C'mon. We'll head back to camp."

You slid the rest of your statuettes into your satchel and stood, stashing coins in the pocket of your robes.

You passed by a man selling wares, his mustache was thin and wiry, and he wore robes that were lavish-looking, but poorly stitched. He shouted that he was the proud procurer of some of the most exquisite weapons and armor. You glanced over and recognized the green and gold sheath of your father's sword next to knock off knives and shields. You gasped and ran up to him.

You spoke to the shop owner. "This is my father's." You picked up and looked at the inscription inside, and ran your finger across it. "I don't mean to sound rude, but this was stolen from me, then sold to you. I'd like it back."

"It belongs to me now, little lady. It costs 5 gold coins, and I won't take any less." He sneered and snatched it from your hands, and wiped your fingerprints off the steel with a rag. "Finders keepers."

"But it belongs to me! It was stolen from me!" Your voice cracked. Lee looked at you with a hint of sympathy. "It's all I have left of him."

The shopkeep's smile could curdle milk. "Then you'll find a way to pay the cost."

You wanted to throttle him, rage bubbled up within you so vibrantly that you shook. You wished to launch a boulder at his smug face, but you turned away, finding your better senses.

"You'll regret that." Lee pointed at the man, and then placed a hand on your back and led you back towards camp.

You shrugged him off, not wanting to be touched. You just wanted justice. You wanted revenge. You wanted what belonged to you. A momentary kindness from Lee didn't change that.

You were close to camp now. You let out a solitary, furious cry into the woods, and you heard the flapping of wings and angry meows as cathawks fled the trees. You fell to your knees and slammed your hand into the ground. The earth cracked with the force of your bending.

You could feel Lee's eyes on your back, and it intensified your anger.

"Michi I…" Lee's quiet, now gentle, voice began, but you stopped him.

"You what?" You stood and pointed an accusatory finger at him. You could feel the heat of your fury, leaving your mouth as you spoke. "Do not use that sweet tone, and don't look at me like that. You suddenly want to show me a sliver of goodwill? You insult my culture, insult _me_ , boss me around like I'm some sort of servant to help you find you the Avatar… and now you want to be nice to me?" You could feel traitorous tears well up in your eyes, and you wiped them away.

He looked shocked but apologetic. "I-I'm sorry." He said the words with great effort.

Your hand fell, and so did your face. "Apologies are more than just words, Lee."

"I know. I'll prove it to you."

**☽ ☽ ☽**

Zuko had every intention of showing Michi he was sorry.

What was troubling him was he wasn't sure why he wanted to show her he was sorry. Something about the tremble of her voice, the fire in her anger, the passion for her culture, her singing voice…

It angered him that he felt something towards her. It made him want to burn down the entire forest with himself inside. Putting words to how he was feeling felt like an impossible task.

That night, before the sun rose and his uncle was fast asleep, and Michi slept too, curled up by the fire, he slipped out of the cave. He snatched the Blue Spirit mask from the roots of the nearby tree and slid it over his face.

The shopkeep made a mistake by not having hired security. The shopkeep walked with all of his wares under his arms and on a small cart. He was on his way to the town square, where he would sell his goods. The rising sun painted the world in lavender, casting an icy glow over the Blue Spirit's visage.

The young man's feet seemed to almost dance across the rooftops, the mask's frozen smile and bared teeth seeming to glow. He pulled swords from his sides and gave them a single twirl, liking the way it felt in his hands.

To have power, to change the story, to right all of the wrongs that have happened to him.

Zuko gritted his teeth behind his mask and dropped from the rooftops in front of him.

The shopkeep's insidious smile faltered when he saw Zuko's mask. "There's no need for this." He said, a nervous tremble to his voice.

The Blue Spirit said nothing. He told him he'd regret this.

All Zuko had to do was point his sword at the man, and he dropped his things and ran. He took the box of coins and Michi's sword. Everything else was needless.

_I'll show you, I'm sorry._

**☽ ☽ ☽**

"In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself. That is the meaning of inner strength."

You heard this in the twilight of your wakeful consciousness. Then, footsteps away from the camp, and Mushi's saddened sigh.

"Good morning, Mushi." The weight of grogginess sat thickly on your voice. "Whoa, what is all of this?"

You looked around the campsite, and it was covered inexpensive trinkets, teapots, and things you knew the three of you couldn't afford. Leaning against the wall was a familiar sheath, gold, and green.

"Mushi!" You snatched it from its spot. "Did Lee…?"

He nodded. "I must say, Michi, you've made quite an impression on him. Something in him is shifting, I believe."

"For better or worse?" You frowned in worry.

"It's difficult to say." He chuckled. "I think your influence has been beneficial, but I don't know where he'll go from here. His soul is… tumultuous, like a stormy ocean. I just hope the sun shines there again soon."

You sat down in front of him, clutching your sword as if an errant breeze would take it from you again.

"I hope so too." And you meant it. You could see that Lee was tormented, and it tore at your heart to witness.

You passed the day with Mushi, and you began to feel like you've met him somewhere. Like that string that connected the two of you have been woven long before you met in your village that fateful day.

"Something about you feels so familiar," you were on your third cup of tea for the day, and the sun was at its peak. "I don't know what it is."

"Perhaps we met in a past life," he sipped his tea and smiled.

"Perhaps."

Lee was coming closer to the campsite, and there was an odd solemness to how he walked. Something had shifted.

"Uncle," he said almost too calmly, "I thought a lot about what you said."

Mushi looked up, "You did? Good, good."

"It's helped me realize something. We no longer have anything to gain by traveling together." You almost gasped, and Mushi's expression fell into sadness and despair. He bowed his head and sat his tea down.

"Lee," you began, "what is going on?" You asked the question with concern, beginning to feel like you were being jerked in every which way.

"I need to find my own way," the young man stated calmly. "Michi, I'd like you to join me. I'll require your help."

You looked at Mushi and then back at him. "Your uncle is invaluable, I don't know about this."

"Michi, go with him," Mushi said. "He's right, he must find his way."

You sighed and then looked away. "Okay," you stood and grabbed your things and began to walk with Lee by your side. Mushi called for the two of you and handed you the remaining ostrich-horse.

"Be safe," he gave a sad smile.

You gave him a great big hug, and he rubbed your back. "Take care, Mushi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all doing well out there. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on this chapter. I plan on following the series pretty closely, but there may be some divergence. Next chapter... things are going to get interesting. 
> 
> I really appreciate the love. ♥
> 
> \- TWP


	5. Weaving Threads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> Thank you so much for 1187 hits, and 115 kudos! I wanted to post when I got to 1000 hits and 100 kudos, but I wasn't ready in time. ): 
> 
> I really appreciate all the love and the comments you've been leaving! Keep them coming, it delights me every time! <3
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> Please enjoy!

Lee drove the ostrich-horse, and you didn’t speak. The animal was so long and wide that you didn’t have to hold onto the boy unless you went up a hill. Then, you held onto his torso to make sure you wouldn’t slide off the back.

Neither of you spoke during your journey until the sun began to set.

“We should stop for the night,” Lee broke the silence, pulling off the trail into a grove of trees.

The moon was rising in the sky, and the setting sun illuminated the clouds in colors that you thought only paintings made possible.

You both sat up camp in silence, and you created a shelter from the ground. You thought that you would need to get feed for the ostrich-horse soon, and a small wave of worry washed over you. You had little in the way of supplies left, you’d left most of it back with Mushi.

If you managed to find Aang, he’d likely have access to supplies. You’d have to see if you could find him that night. Any sort of lead would be beneficial.

“I’m going to see if I can track down the Avatar tonight, okay?” You gave him a small smile.

He nodded and gave a hum of acknowledgment.

It was a pleasant exchange, a cordial one. It was a vast improvement over the usual anger and resentment. Even if Lee hadn’t said anything.

The two of you gathered wood separately and threw it in the middle of a modest stone circle. On your second trip, Lee had a roaring fire going already.

“Okay, let’s see what we can find.” You looked at the boy, and he stared at you across the fire. He showed no emotion, wearing a tense, yet neutral expression. It made him look older, more mature.

You sat in front of the flames and crossed your legs. You took a deep breath, imagining the parts of yourself that touched the ground were sprouting roots. The roots grew further and further into the earth, and you lifted yourself up into the spirit world, your body still in the physical world.

Immediately, you felt something different, Aang had been there. You felt his presence had left an imprint recently. You reached for the feeling he left, the impression. You saw a swirl of bright grassy greens and the feeling of someone who had long passed--a tyrant who’d been struck down before world domination. Justice truly served.

You focused deeper, trying to picture where. You heard Aang, but it wasn’t quite him. He was speaking, but it wasn’t his voice.

_“I killed Chin the Conqueror.”_

Suddenly you were there, peeking back in time. You saw Aang and his friends and watched before your very eyes as Aang became Avatar Kyoshi. You had a deep reverence for her and watched, mesmerized by the dark clouds that surrounded her and her voice, booming yet calm. You looked around and saw a statue of Chin the Conqueror, and you knew you would both have a starting point of where to look.

You took a deep breath and followed the path that you laid in your mind back out into the physical world.

You lifted your head, and it was like being pulled out of the ocean. A roar of rushing filled your ears.

You opened your eyes and stabilized yourself. You held your head, a small groan leaving your mouth.

After the feeling passed, you looked up at Lee, and you saw no impatience there. There was curiosity, sure, but it was a far cry from the angry insistence he’d shown before.

“He was recently in Chin Village.” You uncrossed your legs and held yourself up on your hands and leaned back a little.

_“Those bonds can never be broken, through death or time or distance…”_

A muffled and distorted voice broke through your mind. It was like a distant echo, and its origination wasn’t clear to you. You couldn’t recall where you heard it, but you felt like it had come from a dream. Lee spoke, and it distracted you from those thoughts.

“We’ll head that way tomorrow,” he turned and walked away from the flames, towards the shelter.

You spoke, and he froze.

“Lee, thank you for getting my sword back.” You ran your hand across the sheath. “I didn’t think I’d ever see it again, with that shopkeeper being how he was.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It was everything that I had left of him. My dad.” The young man turned back toward you, and his eyes looked softer somehow. He sat back down, this time it was next to you. “They raided my village a few years ago, he was the chieftain.” Lee had similar scars to you, he would know who “they” were.

You cleared your throat, “They brought all the village elders and heads of the families to the middle of the village and slaughtered them like cattle.”

Lee wouldn’t look at you. He just stared into the campfire, so you did the same.

“When I was little, I’d heard stories about Avatar Kyoshi, and how she saved her entire village with her Earthbending,” you shook your head and smiled, then it faltered. “I wanted to be like her. I wanted to save the men in my village. So I ran into the town square from where my mother hid me. When I heard they were coming for us, I colored my eyes like Kyoshi with some paint my mom had. So there I was, this little girl, threatening to destroy all of these Firebenders in the middle of town.” You looked at your hands, still covered, and took them out of the gloves.

“I guess I was lucky they didn’t kill me. They told me: Let this be a reminder that the Fire Nation so graciously spared you. Then they burned me.”

“That’s horrible, Michi,” Lee said the words with little feeling, but you could sense the emotion behind it.

“Everyone has a story like that, though, don’t they? It’s just the world we live in now.” You hugged your legs to your chest and sighed. “I’m not telling you this to try and convince you to tell me what happened to you, that’s your business. It just… it means a lot that you got the sword back.”

You laid back on the cold ground and looked up through the trees and watched the skies. The clouds floated across them, leaving freckles of stars in their wake. Lee fell backward too; a small puff of dust erupted from the ground where his body laid. Neither of you spoke for a long time.

“Does it hurt you?” Lee asked.

“Does what hurt me?”

“Going to the spirit world. I’ve seen how you look when you come back, it’s like it hurts you or something.”

You smiled. “No, it’s just jarring sometimes. If I’m there too long, it takes me a minute to get readjusted, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay. I just… if it hurt you… well, I wouldn’t want that.” He huffed after he spoke as if his words were tumbling out of his mouth, and he couldn’t catch them.

You didn’t say anything, deciding to let his words hang in the air for a moment.

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt either, Lee.” You turned on your side and looked at him.

He clenched his fist and continued to stare upwards.

☾ ☾ ☾

Zuko felt like he was being examined. Picked apart. He was worried about what Michi would find.

Part of him wanted to tell her. To break this lie apart and expose its insides. He wanted the rejection to happen quickly, so he could move on. So he could rebuild his honor after finding the Avatar, and this weird spirit girl could be a thing of his past.

She would be a momentary slip in his better judgment.

Zuko couldn’t bring himself to tell her. He could feel her eyes on him, and he let his own wander to meet hers. He didn’t expect them to be this bright in the light of the fire.

He turned on his side too and looked at her, the grass brushing against his scar. 

How long could he keep up this lie? How long until they finally caught up with the Avatar, and he had to betray Michi? Could he even bring himself to do that?

Yes. Anything to get himself one step closer to restoring his princely honor and his birthright.

His confidence waned when her hand laid on the grass, bridging the gap between the two.

Zuko found himself wanting to take her hand in his, to take the place of the grass between her fingers. Until he saw the scars and thought about who gave them.

His people. Soldiers who were part of Fire Lord Ozai’s army. It might as well have been his own father who burned her.

_Join the club,_ he thought.

Lost in his thinking, he hadn’t noticed his own hand wandering off to touch hers. The ghost of his fingers grazed her hand, and he found himself allowing them to. For a moment, he shoved aside his doubts. They melted when Michi's fingers interlocked with his.

They dissipated entirely when she smiled.

There he laid; the continuous rage and shame he felt was replaced by butterflies. A flutter in his stomach that overshadowed all the wrong that he felt all the time. The feeling was foreign, and it reminded him of someone else.

_Mai._

He hadn’t felt this since Mai, but Michi was different. Mai made the dark feel comfortable. She made it easy for Zuko to dwell there and find joy in the miserable. Miserable was bearable, fun even, when shared with someone special. She was darkly sweet, and he missed her. Had he changed beyond Mai? Would Mai like him now?

Michi scooted closer to Zuko, and he swallowed nervously. She rubbed her thumb on his hand and spoke sweetly, “This probably sounds cheesy, but you have really beautiful eyes.” She giggled, and his heart soared, and heat rushed to his cheeks.

He’d never been complimented like that before. He always thought compliments like that were for guys to give to girls. He felt a small smile creep to his lips before mumbling, “You too.” He meant it.

She offered an amused smile in return. 

Where Mai made the dark livable, Michi lifted the shadows entirely. She was cheerful, but in a way that wasn’t obnoxious. She radiated warmth and kindness, even towards him. Michi wasn’t some pushover either, and he liked that. She was passionate and empathetic. And Uncle loved her, which was a bonus for the prince.

Their faces were close together and she looked up at him, her breath tickling his skin.  He reached out and brushed a hair away from her eyes, and his hand lingered, warm on her cheek. 

He could forget he was living a lie until he felt himself getting carried away.  He barely knew this girl. That wasn’t bothersome in itself. 

It was that she knew nothing at all about him. 

His face fell, and he pulled his hand away from her cheek. The look of confusion that crossed her face made his heart sink. When the rift between them lengthened, he turned onto his back. He begged the stars to evict the feeling of shame in his gut.

“What’s wrong?” Michi asked. The prince heard her pull her hands close to her body.

“It’s not you,” he said, sensing the worry, “it’s… complicated.” He sat back up and looked into the fire.

“Experiencing things as we have, it makes it hard sometimes.” She was gracious, too gracious. He couldn’t stand that. She sat up. “It’s okay, Lee.”

Or maybe it was that she couldn’t say his name, his real name. He wished he could forget he was Zuko. Lee, Spiritual Guide to The Avatar would have it easy.

How could anything good come from being with Michi when it’s built on falsehood? He stood, said nothing, and walked into the forest away from her. 

☾ ☾ ☾

You weren’t sure what to make of Lee. 

You felt an attraction to him, a pull. Though you held that, you realized he needed to sort out what’s going on in his soul. That’s a journey he would have to take for himself.

As much as it pained you to watch someone with so much turmoil. 

He was sweet, the way he touched your cheek, and held your hand.  He was sensitive. You’d dated boys in your village before.  It never seemed to work out, unfortunately. Being the Chieftess’ daughter makes for some strange relationship dynamics.

Lee was different.

The moon was at its peak, and you breathed in the forest air, mixed with the smoke of the fire. It smelled like everything you loved. Home.

You felt tied to the earth by the aroma alone, and you decided to meditate.

When you meditated, your intent was often relaxation, and you kept an open mind for messages and insights from the spirit world. You imagined it like floating on a stream, wherever it took you was where you were meant to be.

If you ended up in the spirit world, you welcomed that as part of what your soul was searching for.

Your mind wandered, and a voice broke through the silence and the peace.  Fractals of that voice kept finding you, and it was like the puzzle pieces were beginning to fit.  You no longer floated on a peaceful meditation. You grabbed that voice and focused on it with all of your being.

You felt an immediate sense of nostalgia, of warmth.  You tasted warm jasmine and smelled berries and sweets. 

You had to know who it was. 

You searched deep within yourself, picking through seas of memories and caves of forgotten conversations and people you once knew. So many dusty golden ribbons tied to people you didn’t recall meeting. You strummed through all of them, and they let out a tune that floated on the air in a symphony of connection. You heard the familiar voice once more like a tone, and you sought the ribbon that connected to it.

You followed the voice until it became louder, and a picture began to form.

The truth washed over you, and you wished you hadn’t gone digging.

The memories flowed together and found their way back into your mind. It was the same person who’d given you your nickname. Who served you tea and laughed with you, offering you nuggets of wisdom and insight. He promised you long ago that you shared a golden string of connection.

That’s why he felt so familiar to you.

No.

_“...my name is Iroh, young one.”_

After you’d met Iroh, you’d learned about the Siege of Ba Sing Se from your village teacher. They taught that he was once a general who’d lead the attack on the Earth Nation capital, but you kept it secret that you’d met him yourself.

You were taught that he was a power-hungry man and was once heir to the throne. The fact that he’d retreated didn’t make him less of a monster in the eyes of those who taught you.

You wondered if people could change. If the sweet old man you’d met was just that now--a sweet old man.

Then you remembered the culling of all the people in your village, and how Iroh led a similar attack. He was part of this, aiding his nephew in finding the Avatar. You thought about your own burns. All the pain that happened to you as a result of actions, just like Iroh’s.

You tried to pull away from the realization, put it back, forget that it was true. The implications were far too painful.

They’d lied to you. You’d heard tales of the banished Fire Nation Prince Zuko, who wandered the world looking for the Avatar, seeking to capture him to restore his honor.

_Honor._

Resentment bubbled up towards Iroh, towards Roku, towards Lee.

Or Zuko, rather.

Why would Roku set you up for such a journey? Why did he wipe your memories?

You snapped away from your meditation, feeling dread wash over you. You would leave. You saw no other alternative. Your hands shook as you filled your satchel, and prepared to depart from this journey built on lies.

Your village was a couple of days’ walk back.

Tears began to well in your eyes as you tried to make sense of this. You thought about the graze of his fingers on yours and hated that you’d let your guard down.

You were naive.

“Where are you going?” Zuko spoke behind you, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

You froze in your spot and looked at the back wall of your shelter. Your words struggled to leave your throat, the urge to scream, threatening to burst from somewhere deep and primal within you. Instead, your words came out as a whimper, like a child. It infuriated you that you didn’t sound stronger.

“When were you going to tell me?” You asked, wiping away the stray tears that formed in your eyes.

“Tell you what?” He asked hesitantly.

“Do not play dumb with me!” You shouted, confronting him and turning to face him. His eyes went wide. “You’re the Fire Nation prince.”

He didn’t respond at first, struggling to offer an explanation.

“I’m not with the Fire Nation anymore, technically.”

He didn’t like this response, and it was apparent by the cringe that crossed his face.

“So, I guess that means you aren’t technically looking to capture the Avatar anymore?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I-I don’t know.”

You looked down and shook your head. You slung your satchel over your shoulder.

“Your uncle was right. You need to figure out your own path. But I will not sit by and help you destroy the only hope for peace we have.” Zuko stood in your way, but you shifted the earth underneath him, and he was out of your path with a startled correction of his stance.

“Michi, wait.” He reached for your arm, but you jerked away.

“Don’t touch me!” You yelled but stopped in your tracks. Your voice dropped to a venomous, but quiet tone. “You want to know the worst part about this? The fact that you’re Fire Nation isn’t the worst part. What I can’t shake is that you lied to me. You and your uncle had opportunity after opportunity to tell me. And yet you didn’t. I trusted you two. I was in this with you. You betrayed that.”

The last thing you saw of Zuko were his solemn amber eyes. You committed that to memory.

You continued on your path, and he didn’t stop you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter! <3
> 
> I hope you're all doing well out there. 
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> PTW


	6. Solus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adjective:  
> alone or unaccompanied (used especially as a stage direction).
> 
> I just thought that was a neat word. 
> 
> I hope everyone is doing well out there! 
> 
> Thank you for:  
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> <3
> 
> It makes me so happy whenever I see them go up. I love reading comments from people and it really brings me joy. 
> 
> This chapter takes place during Book 2, Episode 7. 
> 
> I hope you like it!

Zuko rode on his ostrich-horse alone into dry grasslands, oppressive heat making the air above the path ahead move like water. He felt tired, so, so tired. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent, restful sleep. His stomach rumbled. He reached for his water pouch and greedily drank what remained. 

He bowed his head, and his vision went hazy, his body desperate for rest. 

In the darkness, he saw a woman in a red, regal cloak, turning away for the last time.

_Mom_.

Then, it was Michi turning her back on him. Something within him wanted to stop her, but he'd ruined that. It was too late. 

He thought of the softness of her cheek, and the warmth in her eyes by the light of the fire. 

_Lost, and it's all your fault._

He jerked his head back up, and shook it, growling with frustration under his breath. The sun beat down on the young man, and sweat coated his brow. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. On the horizon, a small town appeared.

Hopefully, cheap food and feed for the ostrich-horse awaited him. 

Zuko was woozy as he got off of his mount. He held onto the animal to stabilize himself. Azula wouldn't be struggling right now, she always had a solution for everything. Why didn't things come as easy for him? 

He walked up to a shopkeeper and asked for food for himself and his ostrich-horse. 

The shopkeeper looked at him sympathetically. "Not enough here for a hot meal. I can get you two bags of feed."

Zuko looked down, his hopes for sustenance gone. He noticed four Earth Kingdom soldiers, gambling at a small, ramshackle table, watching him.

From the corner of Zuko's eyes, he saw two kids hide behind the store counter, looking _too_ amused and mischievous. One of them giggled, and something small whizzed through the air. An egg. It hit a soldier playing there, yolk running down his face and hair.

The two boys dashed away from the scene of the crime, as the Earth Kingdom soldier turned around, snarling. They only saw Zuko behind them and marched up indignantly.

"Hey! You throwing eggs at us, stranger?"

"No."

"You see who did throw it?"

"No."

"That your favorite word, no? Egg had to come from somewhere."

Zuko turned around to look at the soldiers' leader, "Maybe a chicken flew over."

One of the other Earth Kingdom soldiers laughed, and the leader glared at his compatriot. 

At that moment, the store owner returned with Zuko's feed bags for the ostrich-horse. The leader of the soldiers went to the counter and grabbed both bags before Zuko could. 

The leader sneered. "Thanks for your contribution. The army appreciates your support." He threw the bags to one of his fellow soldiers. "You better leave town. Penalty for stayin's a lot steeper than you can afford, stranger. Trust me." He patted his hammer that hung at his side, threatening to use it. 

The army men turned and rode away on their ostrich-horses. 

The shopkeeper tried to make conversation. "Those soldiers are supposed to protect us from the Fire Nation. But they're just a bunch of thugs." 

Zuko ignored him and walked toward his ostrich-horse. As he was about to re-mount, one of the little boys, the one who threw the egg, popped up from behind Zuko's steed. 

"Thanks for not ratting me out!" He chirped. 

Zuko didn't speak to the youngster and mounted his ostrich-horse. He began to ride away, but the boy came up from behind and grabbed the reins.

"I'll take you to my house and feed your ostrich-horse for you. Come on, I owe you!" He insisted. 

☾ ☾ ☾

It was a couple days' journey back to your village, and the sun was setting on the second day. You would arrive in the morning. 

You'd never been away from the village for longer than a few hours unaccompanied, and you weren't sure you had it in you. And yet, you surprised yourself. You were a decent fisher and a relatively skilled forager. When you'd pass through a village, you managed to sell enough carved stone figurines to get yourself a hot meal. 

Working to thrive seemed to distract you from your emotions. You didn't have time to dwell long enough to feel anything. Occasionally, in the quiet moments, you would think of the scarred boy's eyes as you left. 

You tried your hardest to prevent quiet moments. 

As the sun began to set and you curled up in your sleeping bag, you felt a deep yearning for your home. You were ready to get back to your people and figure out what your destiny _actually_ was. 

From your spot in the dirt, wrapped up in your bedroll, you looked out into the night. Your mind drifted off to sleep, the smell of green grass and turned earth lingering on the wind. 

When you awakened, you weren't where you'd fallen asleep. It dawned on you that you weren't actually awake, and you weren't in the physical world. The sky swirled in shades of grey and blue, and you were surrounded by towering rocks the color of clay. The air was impossibly still and warm like standing next to a fire. 

You stood up and looked around, and in front of you stood Avatar Roku. 

You wanted to attack, to scream, to tell him to take your destiny and shove it. 

Instead, you simply dipped your head and asked, "Why? I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me who he was? And why did you wipe my memories of Iroh?"

"When I first called on you, I stood atop a tower of rocks that appeared unstable, and you climbed them because I assured you they would hold. Just as you trusted me to climb those rocks, you must trust that part of your path is to guide Prince Zuko." 

This incensed you. You scowled at Roku and pointed a trembling, angry finger. How dare he ask you to be his puppet, on the precedent that you just " _trust him_." You deserved answers. You marched up in front of him, looking up at his tall, regal form. 

"I will not blindly follow you, Roku!" You shouted. 

He didn't move, only staring down at you with neutral eyes. Your words hung in the air like fog, and he nodded. You swore you saw the tiniest smile on his lips, and the wrinkles by his eyes creased. 

"I understand. Your destiny is yours alone. I should be more respectful of that." 

You closed your eyes and turned away. You were ready to go back, but Roku stepped towards you. 

He seemed to sense your pain. His voice was kind and sincere, soothing, and prophetical. "I cannot promise that your destiny, no matter what it is, will come with ease. I know of what the Fire Nation has taken from you, Michi. I will not ask you to forgive, only that you see with eyes unclouded by fear and hatred. I'll refrain from visiting you any further if you do not wish me to. It was misguided of me, perhaps, to come to you as I did." 

"I don't know where to go from here. I need to understand why you did what you did." You sat in front of him, and he joined you. He looked down. 

"Michi, Prince Zuko is my great-grandson."

You balked. "Really?"

He nodded. "He has the capacity for good. The current Avatar is without a Firebending master, and my belief is that Prince Zuko is meant to be his teacher. However, it is dependent on which path he takes. I knew you wouldn't accept this task without my interference in your memories, as you'd known Iroh from your youth. I hoped you would sway Prince Zuko towards a path of light, away from the darkness. However, I recognize that it wasn't wise to interfere in your life as I did. I apologize."

You took a deep breath, absorbing this information. Roku patiently waited for what you might say. 

"I accept your apology, Avatars make mistakes too, I suppose." He offered an agreeable nod in exchange. 

"Be careful Michi, I fear your road ahead may be more treacherous than you expect." 

"Thank you, Roku."

You pulled yourself out of the spirit world and into blissful sleep. 

☾ ☾ ☾

Gow struck Zuko with a large boulder, sending him tumbling across the dusty ground of the village. 

The last thing the scarred boy heard was the large gasp of the crowd, and landing harshly on his back, and into his memories. 

He was young, asleep in his room. Through the cloud of dreams, he felt the soft touch of his mother's hand on his shoulder. He remembered the red of her cloak and the smell of her perfume. He didn't see the worry in her eyes through the haze of rest. Though, he could tell something was wrong. 

His voice was drowsy and little. "Mom?"

Her voice was rushed, but loving. Like she was clinging to these last moments for hope. "Zuko, please, my love, listen to me. Everything I've done, I've done to protect you." She pulled him close. He wished he at least knew it was the last time he'd see her. "Remember this, Zuko. No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are." 

She released him back to bed, and turned away from him with a sad smile, pulling her hood over her hair, and disappeared down the long, dark hallway. 

Gow was approaching, ready to deliver the final, killing blow to Zuko as he lay on the village ground. He raised his hammer, grinning maniacally. 

He heard the little boy's voice, pleading. "Get up." 

Zuko was awake once more, on the warm, hard ground. He shot to his feet, a blazing whirlwind encircling him, his swords drawn, seething at the soldier who no longer looked confident. 

The Firebender charged at him heat and flames erupting from his swords, and the soldier tried to deflect with earth. It was in vain, as Zuko was too powerful, breaking through each barrier. Gow was sent backward, crawling away from Zuko. 

The soldier spoke in a shaky voice. "Who… who are you?" 

Zuko hadn't proclaimed who he was to anyone for so long. He wished he'd been honest with Michi, and told her who he was. Would these people turn on him, just as Michi had? 

His voice was confident, proud. He thought to himself that he sounded like a leader. "My name is Zuko. Son of Ursa and Fire Lord Ozai. Prince of the Fire Nation, and heir to the throne." 

Somewhere in the crowd, an old voice piped up. " _Liar_! I heard of you! You're not a prince, you're an outcast! His own father burned and disowned him!" 

Zuko kneeled down toward Gow, who shuddered in fear. Zuko did nothing to harm him and simply took back the dagger that the soldier stole from the young boy. It was a pearl dagger that his Uncle Iroh gave him during the Siege of Ba Sing Se. The little boy was named Lee, and Zuko gifted him the blade. 

The scarred boy walked towards Lee, and his mother blocked him from coming closer. 

He remembered what his mom told him many years ago. That's what mothers are like, Zuko. 

The prince knelt down to hand the dagger to the boy. It originated from his people, it would be best to give to him. 

"It's yours. You should have it," Zuko said. 

He'd never seen someone so small radiate so much anger, except for himself, perhaps when he was that age. "No! I hate you!" The little boy shouted. 

Well, that was that then.

Zuko rode out of the Earth Kingdom village on his ostrich horse. The villagers stood in lines on either side of him with various potential weapons in their hands: a hoe, a pitchfork, a rock for throwing. They watched him leave with anger and hatred in their eyes. As Zuko passed Lee, the small boy looked the other way. 

He wondered, somewhere deep within him, if he was getting what he deserved. 

☾ ☾ ☾

You awoke the next morning to the sounds of cathawks yowling in the trees. It was too early for this, you thought. You looked out of your makeshift tent and scowled at them. They simply looked at you with bright green eyes and hissed before fleeing the trees. You fixed your hair in the reflection of the nearby lake. You collapsed your shelter, sinking it back into the ground, and packed up your things. You extinguished the remaining embers of the fire you lit the night before and began on the tail-end of your journey alone. You stretched, your joints popping and snapping from the stiffness.

You set off on your way, ready to start anew. 

Far in the distance, up in the sky, you saw tendrils of smoke. It was light and hazy, and barely perceptible, but it was smoke nonetheless. A sinking feeling radiated from your core. Your heart thrummed in your ears. It could just be a chimney or a campfire, you reasoned.

Your reasoning felt incorrect. 

You walked through a grove of trees, which obscured your view. Anxiety bubbled up in you, and you began to run, needing to know where the smoke was coming from. You broke from the trees, into a bright, open field. It was a field you often played in as a small child, creating hills and ditches. The long grasses were now pressed down with large boot prints and occasional scorch marks. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat like war drums in your ears. 

Your breathing was deafeningly loud. 

Your village, on the horizon, was coated in smoke, hazy and heavy over the buildings. 

Denial hit you first. It couldn't be _your_ village. 

You ran as fast as you could, your lungs screaming for satisfying air. Your home was getting closer. The closer you got, the less it looked like home. The destruction was more apparent now. You saw burnt out buildings, some on the verge of collapse. 

Your legs shook so harshly that you fell, and then clamored to your feet. Your breath hitched in your chest. The rough, scratchy sound of a stone shifting on a nearby building made you jump.

Your village, your home, everything you knew was blackened and scorched. 

Where was your mother? The temple guards? The merchants? Your friends? 

You ran towards your temple, the smoke dancing out of its windows and doors in ribbons of grey. You ran inside of its doors, and you could barely smell the incense and perfumes that used to adorn it. 

"Hello?" You shouted, "anyone? Please?" You begged the quiet to respond. "Mom?" 

You collapsed to your knees, looking at the destruction all around you, and everything you lost. Nothing but ash and the whisper of smoky, acrid winds greeted you back. 

Until you heard footsteps approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad writing Roku as kind of a dick, so please forgive me. Lol. I needed to for plot purposes. (:'
> 
> Let me know what you think. :D 
> 
> Stay safe! 
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> PTW


	7. Enemies and Traitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! 
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> This chapter takes place during Book 2: Episode 9.

“Alright, keep your back straight, arms at an angle, legs bent. You want to be sturdy, like a rock,” your father modeled the pose as you watched and copied his stance with curious, eager eyes. 

He peeked down at your legs, still relatively close together and easily toppled. “You want your feet far apart because that offers more stability.” 

“Oh, right.” You corrected yourself and nodded, putting on your most serious face. Well, serious enough for an eleven-year-old. 

You’d gotten a little too creative earlier that day during a game of Kyoshi Warriors with your friends. You’d dug into your mom’s ceremonial grease paints, and decorated your face like a knock-off Kyoshi Warrior, proclaiming you were the _actual_ Avatar Kyoshi. You’d heard rumors that the Fire Nation would come someday, and ever since you wanted to look tough like her. 

Perhaps that lent a little bit of legitimacy to your _serious_ face. 

He watched you adjust and nodded. “Now, feel the ground under your heels, close your eyes if you have to.” 

You imagined the soil under your feet and the grime. In your mind, images flowed of grit under your fingers, the smell of loose earth, and wet stones. 

“Now, open your eyes,” he said. 

You did, blinking the sun’s brightness out of your vision behind eyes painted red. 

Your father did some forms, moving his arms and legs in rigid, quick motions. “Move with intention, earthbending is a powerful art. You must be certain about your moves as you make them. It can sense when you’re unsure.”

You nodded. 

“Now, repeat what I do,” he stepped forward and pushed his arms in front of him, and a boulder toppled over. You took a steadying breath and took a step as well. You followed his arm motion, and the rock unsteadily tumbled once more, albeit less powerfully. 

You brightened, jumping up and down. The pebbles you bent and the rocks you could skip did not compare to knocking over a _whole_ _boulder_. “I did it! I did it!” 

He let out a thunderous, joyful laugh picking you up and spinning you around, ruffling your hair. “You sure did! Let’s go tell your mother. I’m sure she’ll be pleased all of that work on forms paid off. My daughter is going to be the best Earthbender this nation has ever seen! Mark my words!” He shouted the words across the field you played in, passing through towards your village. 

The walk back had you and your father singing old folk songs. 

“Oh, I want to be a badger mole, _me_!” He sang out of tune. 

“Oh, he wants to be a badger mole, _he_!” You replied. 

“I’d dig all night and sleep all day!”

“Make some tunnels and rest in the clay!” 

You both laughed, and there were few things more precious than moments like that. 

Your smile faded when you looked upon your village, the path that led up the hill to it was silent. The town itself was unnaturally quiet; you couldn’t hear your friends playing in the square, or music like you so often heard on beautiful days. Your father’s brows furrowed as you both approached. Stonework houses dotted your town, all with chimneys that exhausted smoke on cold, winter days. 

The walk up to your home felt like it took twice as long as your paces went slightly faster. Neither you nor your father acknowledged the strangeness, as if speaking on it would spell certain doom. 

You walked into your cottage, a little bigger than the rest. A scout accompanied your mother, adorned with camouflaged browns and greens on his face and clothing. He turned to you and your father sympathetically, panic and concern in his eyes. 

You looked up at your mother and father for reassurance, but their expressions were severe. 

“Chieftain,” the scout bowed his head. “The armies of the Fire Nation are closer than we thought. They will be there in half a day’s time. What will we do?” 

There was a painful, empty silence. 

Your father’s typically jovial and uplifting voice took on an edge you’d not heard before. “It’s too late to evacuate. We will do what we must. Prepare the guards.”

“Yes sir,” the scout responded before leaving the house. 

Your mother and father embraced. You’d never seen her cry before. She quickly wiped them away and knelt to you. “We have to get you to safety, honey.” 

Your father bent down and hugged you. “I love you; we’ll get you when it’s safe.”

Your mother whisked you away to the cellar below your house, hidden underneath a woven rug. You huddled in the corner, and she knelt beside you. “You have to stay here, okay?”

“What’s the Fire Nation going to do?” 

“I don’t know, sweetie. But if you stay here, you’ll be okay.”

“What about you and dad?” Your voice sounded so small, and you began to cry, smearing the red around your eyes and covering your face so she wouldn’t see. “Please don’t go.” 

She brushed your hair away from your face. You lowered your hands, and she wiped away your tears. She knew how much you hated to cry and how you felt like a baby whenever you did. 

“Listen to me, Michi.” She tilted your chin up. “Never be ashamed to cry. Do you hide your smile when you’re happy?” You shook your head, no. “Do you shout in surprise when you’re scared?” You nodded. “Why is crying any different? It shows your strength, dear girl. It shows the honor and good in your heart.” She kissed your forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Be brave for me.” 

She left you alone with your thoughts. Hours later, you could hear the fray beginning outside, the sounds of rocks crashing, and the blazes of fire. It echoed all around you in a cacophony of destruction. You felt utterly helpless. A man shouted in pain outside, and everything within you believed it was your father. 

You felt like hope hinged on you, helping in any way you could. 

A young, pretend Kyoshi exited her shelter, prepared to protect her people.

☽ ☽ ☽

“Michi?” A voice you recognized called out from behind you in your charred temple. It stopped your heart when you realized it was Zuko. You held your face and sobs began to rack your body, and you trembled like a leaf on the blackened floor of your former sanctuary. 

He dropped to the floor next to you, and tentatively touched your back. 

You didn’t feel his hand there; you were in the midst of panic and rage. “Where are they?” You spoke through sobs. “Where are they?” You asked again, looking up at him with furious eyes. 

“I-I don’t know for certain.” 

After a quiet moment, your tears stopped, replaced by righteous anger, the likes of which you’ve never felt. It was official. The Fire Nation had taken everything from you. Your home, your parents, your people. You had nothing left to lose but your life. 

The realization was freeing. You hardened like molten steel, the anger replacing itself with icy determination. 

“I have to find them. I’ll level the entire Fire Nation if I have to.” You stood, your calm voice echoing through the scorched room. 

“You can’t do this alone,” Zuko said, trying to stop you. 

“What, are you going to help me?” You bit back. 

“If you let me. It’s… the least I can do.” He was quiet and sounded humbled. It was a far cry from the demanding, angry person you’d met before. 

You thought about what Roku said, that he thought there was good in Zuko. You perhaps believed that, but you had a hard time getting past the betrayal and hurt you felt. 

“I have to know…. Please, be honest with me, Zuko.” He met your eyes in what looked like a great effort. “Are you going to capture the Avatar?”

He winced as if you were scratching open an old, never-quite-healed wound. “I don’t know.”

You had no one else to turn to that could help you find them. You wondered if being alone was worse or better than being with someone who might capture the Avatar. When you thought further, you considered that if he did try to capture the Avatar, you would do what you could to stop him. You’d keep an eye on him.

Settling for an uneasy partnership felt like the wisest move. Zuko knew the most about the Fire Nation and could offer you potential destinations for the villagers. 

In the ruins of your temple, you turned to him: the Fire Nation prince, a small part in the destruction of your nation, your people. Though, you didn’t see a tyrant or a prince, but instead a young man who had experienced loss. Little different than you, based on what you knew. 

_“...see with eyes unclouded by fear and hatred.”_

Roku’s words lingered in your mind.

You sighed. _Okay, Roku._

“Fine, but the moment you put a single _toe_ or a _flame_ out of line, and I will not hesitate to stop you. Bear that in mind.” 

He nodded. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Outside you heard the sound of wind blowing and light feet touching the ground. 

You signaled Zuko to be quiet and crouched by the remnants of the door, peeked out of the temple and saw Aang, his eyes pocketed with tiresome blue. He looked exhausted; his posture was slumped and groggy. Tufts of white fur trailed behind him. You looked at Zuko, and he appeared like he might bolt after him, his eyes focused and wide. You put an arm out, anticipating that he might jump out. Instead, you both watched as he looked around before sitting in the ashen town square, the sight of your people’s massacre. 

It felt like a bad omen. You swallowed. 

Aang waited. For what you weren’t sure. 

Until you saw a girl, perhaps only a bit younger than you, riding a mongoose-lizard, her hair impeccably tied into a hairpiece shaped like a flame. She wore a Fire Nation uniform, scarlet and black, pressed and neat. You glanced at Zuko, who clenched his fists and appeared as though he might charge. 

You hissed at him. “Back up.” 

The Fire Nation girl dismounted her mongoose-lizard, squishing the white fur under her boots. 

Aang spoke, his legs still crossed, his glider in his hands. “All right, you’ve caught up with me. Now, who are you, and what do you want?” His voice wasn’t the same as when you’d met him. It sounded strained. 

“You mean you haven’t guessed? You don’t see the family resemblance? Here’s a hint.” She covered half her face with one perfectly manicured hand. She spoke in an angsty and deep voice. “I must find the Avatar to restore my honor.”

You turned your head slowly and looked up at Zuko, who was seething and red-faced. “That’s your…?” You asked in a whisper. 

“Sister.” He snapped, offended, and hushed. 

“Ah,” you responded. 

“It’s okay, you can laugh. It’s funny.” Zuko’s sister finished. 

“So, what now?” The Avatar asked. 

“Now? Now, it’s over. You’re tired, and you have no place to go.” She smirked, and it chilled your bones. “You can run, but I’ll catch you.”

Aang stood to his feet. “I’m not running.”

“Do you really want to fight me?” The princess asked. 

Zuko broke away and darted into the square. You were too slow to grab him. “Yes, I really do,” he answered. 

“Zuko!” Aang responded, alarmed. 

You dashed after him into the square and said nothing. The Avatar did a double-take. “Michi?”

He recognized you from your prolonged visit to the spirit world after he awoke. You glanced at him but said nothing, he looked confused and appalled by your presence. 

“I see you brought a little Earth Nation girlfriend, Zuzu.” 

“He is not my boyfriend,” You responded calmly, taking a broad, ready stance, anticipating any movement she might make. 

Aang was taken aback by the nickname for her brother, laughing through his hands. “Zuzu?” 

“Back off, Azula!” Zuko yelled. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” The princess responded coolly. Her eyes darted between the three of you. 

“Aang, you need to run,” you said urgently, but softly. 

“Michi, what are you doing with Zuko?” You glanced at Aang briefly and saw the hurt in his eyes. Azula saw the distraction and took the opportunity to strike, blue fire erupting from her fingertips.

You raised an earthen column, blocking Azula’s attack, followed a solid punch, and the pillar sped towards her. She leaped over the dirt and shot flames at Zuko with one, sure strike. He raised a shield of fire, but the force knocked him back into the porch of a destroyed shop. 

“Get out of here, Aang!” You shouted, pleading with him. 

Aang yelled in fear as Zuko crumbled on the ground, and he prepared to take liftoff on his glider. Azula swung her arm downward, sending a stream of fire at Aang. He flipped over mid-air, twirling the staff to dispel the flames.

You stomped on the ashen ground and pushed your arms forward, attempting to restrain Azula with soil that erupted from beneath her. She was quick and lept out of the way. As she did, she shot a flaming arc from her hands, and Zuko blocked it with his own. The heat lingered in the air. Azula turned to shoot her blue flames at Aang. He banked down a broken alleyway and floated onto a roof, unscathed.

Azula lept between buildings and ran across the burnt top after him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as you chased Azula from below. Zuko was ahead of you on the roof behind his sister, but you weren’t sure who he was chasing. You cursed as you punched at the building next to you, creating a fracture in the princess’ runway. She danced across it with ease, and you kept running alongside her. Zuko fell into the hollow of the building with a thunderous cry and a crash. 

You cringed regretfully and kept chase. 

You landed solidly on one foot, and a rock launched you onto the building, and you hit it running. 

Azula sent a blast of fire, slicing a portion of the rooftop off. Aang lept away from the crumbling part onto a steady spot, only for Azula to use her flames to destroy the building from beneath his feet. The ceiling caved in beneath him. He landed on the ground inside, trapped beneath a pile of wooden planks. In your shock, Azula caught you off guard, launching fire at your feet. She knocked you off balance, falling off the roof. The ground greeted you harshly. 

You thought little of your fall and scrambled upwards, running to where Aang collapsed. Azula was lighting the room on fire as Aang struggled to break free. Before you could act, a stream of water appeared, breaking Aang free and distracting the princess. 

Its origin was a water tribe girl, and you recognized her from the vision at Chin Village. 

Azula sprinted after her, and you kicked up a sizable rock, launching at her back. She felt it coming and ducked. She turned around long enough to shoot fire at you, which you dodged with a half turn. A boomerang came from seemingly nowhere, and Azula bent backward, avoiding its strike. 

A new figure you’d not recognized appeared in Earth Nation garb. She was much younger than you, and shifted the dirt beneath Azula’s feet, knocking her down.

When you looked closer, you saw that her eyes were cloudy. She was blind. 

“I thought you guys could use a little help.” The youngest chirped. 

☽ ☽ ☽

Iroh had been tracking his nephew for days. The elder shook his head when he saw him take his tumble through the building. He could be reckless, and anger seemed to cloud his mind. 

Zuko held his head, mildly injured, but he perked up when he saw Iroh. 

“Uncle?” The boy asked stupefied. 

“Get up.” He helped him to his feet, and they dashed towards the fray. 

Michi joined the Avatar and his group. They had Azula cornered, even more so when Zuko and Iroh completed the defenses

The princess stood, her fingers pointed at the ready. 

“Well, look at this. Enemies and traitors, all working together. I’m done.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I know when I’m beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honor.”

The group didn’t move. Iroh glanced at Michi and saw her eyes, puffy and red, and thought of the tremendous loss she’d experienced. Her eyes briefly met his, and there was pain there.

That was all it took. 

With a flick of Azula’s wrists, a blue fire erupted from her hands, and Michi yelped before falling back in a heap, flames singeing through the chest of her robes. 

The sound of Zuko’s cry hit Iroh’s ears, and the remaining group attacked, first a boomerang, then Earth, Air, Water, and Fire swirling around Azula, before the dust settled and she was gone, disappeared without a trace.

Zuko knelt over Michi’s unconscious form, pulling his short hair with his hands and yelling in anguish.

Iroh watched as Zuko turned to the group of kids who watched helplessly, exchanging worried glances. 

His nephew shouted, dismayed, “Get away from us!”

“Zuko, I can help her.” Katara stepped forward. 

“Leave!” An arc of vibrant fire burst from the boy’s hands. The children stepped away cautiously and left the small village. 

Iroh didn’t interfere, feeling it unwise when he was in such a state. He saw a glimpse of the Avatar glancing back, sadness, and lack of sleep apparent on his face. 

“Come on, nephew,” Iroh bent down and helped him to his feet. Zuko leaned over and took Michi into his arms, and they found shelter in the scorched remains of Michi’s hometown. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you’re doing well out there. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> PTW ❀


	8. Catching Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! 
> 
> Thank you so much for...   
> 213 Kudos...   
> 70 Bookmarks, including private...   
> and 2673 Hits! 
> 
> I really appreciate all the love on the last chapter! I am thoroughly enjoying weaving this tale into the existing Avatar canon. It’s a bit of a challenge but it seems to be working thus far. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

“The phoenixes were the first lavabenders, and they helped shape the world as we know it. It’s an art capable of great destruction, but also creation.”

Your mother stood with you in the open field, the smell of her perfume catching your nose on the light breeze that passed. Jasmine, and you sneaked some whenever you got the opportunity. “The phoenixes would lay eggs in the magma of active volcanoes, and legends say that eruptions marked the birth of the new firebirds. They could shape the lava with the flap of their wings,” your mother made a grand, avian flourish with her arms. 

“Is it like firebending?” You asked, fiddling with a loose string on your glove. 

“Not quite,” she responded. “The movements are much more like waterbending because lava is fluid, and you have to mimic those motions.” She moved gracefully like a dancer, in smooth, gentle motions, nothing like the rigid forms she taught you when earthbending. 

You mimicked her movements. “Can anyone lavabend?” You asked. 

“No, only the most masterful of us can. It can take years of persistence and practice with the earth before you move lava.” 

Your movements continued, copying her motions as she did them. You imagined hot, searing magma moving with your hands. “Can you move lava?” 

“Curious today, Michi.” She laughed a musical sound that you always adored. “I cannot, unfortunately. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to. Your grandfather could, though. Your father told me he saw his father lavabend once, and only once when he was a small child, and they settled this town, to create fertile soil for their crops.” She chuckled and shook her head. “I guess he didn’t see any other use for it. He was a strange man.” 

You smiled, determination gleaming in your eyes. “Just you watch, mom. I’ll be a lavabender someday.” 

“If anyone could, it’s you, Michi. But first, forms,” she grinned. You groaned. 

☽ ☽ ☽ 

“You knew that girl?” Toph asked Aang. It was early in the morning in a rocky quarry in the Earth Kingdom. “The one who was with Zuko?” 

“Yeah, I met her in the Spirit World.” Aang poked some rocks with a stick and put his chin on his knees. He sighed, nervous about this new addition to the equation of balance that he had to solve. He wondered if Michi was okay. He had to learn Earthbending today. 

The Avatar had a lot on his plate. 

“Wow, I didn’t know other people could travel the Spirit World other than the Avatar.” Katara chimed in. 

“The monks talked about them sometimes,” Aang responded. “They said there are people who are gifted by the spirits and are more in tune because of it.”

“Like Yue,” Sokka mentioned, a sad glint in his eyes. 

Aang nodded. “Then, there are some who are just born with a piece of the Spirit World within them. So it’s easier for them to get there.” 

“But what’s she doing with Zuko?” Katara asked. 

“I don’t know,” Aang stood up, twirling his staff. “Until we figure it out, we need to be careful.” 

☽ ☽ ☽

In the twilight of your wakefulness, you saw the Avatar’s sad, hurt eyes, heard Zuko’s panicked shout, the inferno in your heart, and felt the ground meet your back. A voice broke through, quiet but urgent, repeating: “You’re going to be okay.”

Like a mantra, over and over again. Zuko’s voice.

It replayed in slow motion until you opened your eyes. It was a severe effort that tired you immediately.

Above you were the charred remains of the temple ceiling, made darker by the night sky, and you gasped, shooting straight up, not recalling immediately how you got here. It was dark, and lightning struck outside, rain leaking into the room and filling the temple with white noise. 

You remembered the princess’ cold eyes and the flames that burst from her fingers. Your brows furrowed. 

A blanket covered you, and you felt your chest, where you were stricken. You winced and hissed when a horrific pain emanated from your touch. There were bandages wrapped around the wound. 

The room was empty. You felt the wind outside rattle the bones of the temple, and the urge to bolt away from it overtook you. You imagined your mother dragged out along with the rest of the people. She would’ve put up a fight, that you didn’t doubt. You just couldn’t stand to be in the place where it happened. 

Not too long ago, it was the place you most admired and wanted to be. 

You slowly, tenderly, got to your feet, cringing when your movements irritated the burn. You walked through the broken archway of a former door and saw the faint outline of Zuko in the distance on top of a hill, made hazy and unclear by the rain, occasionally illuminated by the lightning. Iroh was nowhere to be found. 

Zigzagging lines of electricity lit up the world in a harsh, white light, followed by a roar of thunder that shook the skies. You trudged on, rain pelting you, unsure of what the prince was doing. Iroh appeared, shielding himself under a tree, a small fire lit in his hand, flickering like a lantern. 

“What’s going on?” You yelled over the rain. 

“Michi, you shouldn’t be out of bed!” Iroh exclaimed. 

“I’m fine!” you waved him off. “What’s he doing?” 

“He’s gone to seek his own lightning!” Iroh shouted back. 

“What does that mean?” You asked, wondering if it was some cryptic Fire Nation thing. 

“I was teaching Zuko to redirect lightning, and I wasn’t going to shoot lightning at him, so he’s gone to get his own!” So it _was_ some weird Fire Nation thing. 

“I’ll be back!” You shouted, walking past him. 

You held your hand over your eyes, shielding from the rain, and Zuko’s lean form came more into view. Your hair pressed coldly against your skin, your body soaked to the bone. Zuko’s eyes looked defiant, angry. Most of all, though, he looked like he was in pain. The thought made the burn on your chest feel more prominent. He didn’t seem to sense your presence. 

The banished prince screamed at the storm that roared above. “You’ve always thrown everything you could at me! Well, I can take it, and now I can give it back!” The storm ignored his threats. “Come on, strike me! You’ve never held back before!”

The storm continued to rage, but no lightning came for him. He fell to his hands and knees and yelled over the rain and thunder bellowed above.

☽ ☽ ☽ 

“Zuko?” The prince heard Michi’s voice, just barely audible over the storm. 

He turned to her, wiping the rain and tears away from his eyes. “Michi! You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“So I’ve been told,” she responded with a little smile, approaching with drenched hair and clothes. The rain began to dissipate, reverting to a drizzle. Lightning dotted the clouds, and small, defiant rumbles emanated afterward. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, sitting back from his position onto the wet ground. She joined him. Zuko couldn’t imagine why she’d come all this way, being in the shape she was. 

A long silence, punctuated by rain, fell between them. “Because, for better or worse, I care about you,” The girl admitted. “All common sense must’ve left me,” she laughed. 

He turned to her, his eyes softening, but said nothing. The rain made the silence more comfortable. When it finally subsided, white, puffy clouds replaced it, lightly illuminated by the moon behind it. 

“How’s your burn?” He asked, with little emotion. 

“It’s fine,” Michi replied. “I’m okay.” 

“We should probably change your bandage,” he stood, and so did she, but slower.

“Who bandaged me up?” Michi asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Zuko blushed. “I did.” 

“ _Oh_.” She returned the blush. 

“I-uh, hope that’s okay!” His cheeks deepened in redness, nearly blending in with the burn over his eye. 

“Yeah, no, totally okay! I mean I’m injured, right?” 

“Yep, not like I’d look at you without your shirt otherwise!” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, I mean, that’s not… I meant that… like not when you’re asleep...” He grumbled and facepalmed, dragging his hand down his face. 

Michi laughed, and then winced at the wound on her chest, before chuckling. “It’s okay, Zuko. Thank you for taking care of me.” 

The prince nodded, and they both made their way to the temple in Michi’s once-beautiful town. She slowed to a stop, and Zuko heard a pained breath behind him. 

“Can we go somewhere else please?” Michi asked, her voice sapped of all former joy. 

Zuko turned back towards her curiously. She was frozen, and looked upon her lost home, glimmers of sadness apparent in her eyes. He agreed, his voice low. “Yeah, come on.” 

Zuko and Michi headed towards a nearby river, dotted with stones and foliage. Wildflowers of various colors littered the shore. Michi sat on a rock with a small grin. “My mother used to warn me about getting too close to this river.”

“Why?” He reached into the pockets of his pants and pulled out long strands of clean bandages. 

“She said there were river spirits who dwelled there among the flowers, by the banks. It’s an old folk tale, but I listened to her. They took the form of beautiful women with green hair and blue skin, and drew unsuspecting people into the rapids.” 

“Hold still,” Zuko said softly. 

Michi flushed while Zuko lifted her shirt, slowly, like she was made of delicate petals. He swallowed nervously, his mouth suddenly very dry. The injured girl turned the shade of a ripe tomato, averting his gaze. She was still partially covered by a bandeau, the bandages wrapped around just below it. Zuko methodically unwound the bandages on her chest, his fingers unnaturally warm on her chilled skin. The burn ached as it caught on the fabric. Michi hissed before relaxing, as the injury freed itself. 

She continued her tale. “They had these beautiful songs that would draw in men or something. I think it was just to keep us from getting too close and drowning.” Michi said as he examined the wound. 

Zuko cared little about her story, caught up in his task. The burn Azula gave Michi looked like the bloom of an otherworldly flower, the size of his hand, squarely between her ribs. Zuko seethed silently at the damage done. What if it had been lightning? She’d be dead, and it would be his fault for dragging her into his hunt for the Avatar. 

The prince’s expression hardened. “It’s going to leave a scar.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Michi said with a chuckle and held her gloved hands out, still dampened from the rain. For some reason, this seemed to incense the prince.

“How are you so… so damned pleasant all the time?” He huffed, holding ribbons of bandages in his hand and a frown on his face. “You have all these horrible things happen to you, and you can still smile and laugh about it? You were just burned!” 

Michi watched the boy’s face simmer from frustration to concern, before speaking. “Some people scream at the sky when they’re distressed, others smile and laugh through it. Neither are wrong.”

The girl looked down at her burn and lightly touched it at the edge, cringing. The prince swatted her hand away. “If you keep touching it, it won’t heal.” 

She quirked an eyebrow at him. He ignored her and wrapped the new bandages around her midsection, just tightly enough. “Thanks,” Michi smiled. “I’ll be as good as new soon.” 

“Yeah,” the boy said. He finished the wrap around her, securing it so it wouldn’t slide off. His expression remained stoic and ever so slightly angry until their eyes met, and he softened. He was suddenly very aware of how close his hand was to hers. Everything within him wanted to touch it again like he had when he was Lee: Spiritual Guide to the Avatar. 

But he wasn’t Lee anymore. He was Zuko.

And Zuko just betrayed Michi. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do it again. His honor was paramount to her, no matter how much she charmed him. At the very least, he’d try to spare her the additional heartbreak. He’d build a wall, just like the ones in Ba Sing Se, but they would surround his heart. He had to do whatever it takes to regain his birthright, and that included turning on Michi once more if he had to. 

Best to let it be as painless as possible for both of them. 

Michi’s lips curved into a smile, and she turned away. The light of the moon made her skin glow in an almost magical way. Zuko felt the defenses around his heart falter, like a stone were removed. 

A turtleduck swam downstream, squawking as if asking a question. A barely perceptible smile flashed across the prince’s face. 

“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Michi asked in a sweet, sing-songy voice. 

“My mom and I used to feed the ones who lived outside the palace.” Zuko found himself glad that he didn’t have to pretend to be someone else anymore. It made him want to keep talking. 

She brightened. “What I wouldn’t give to see little Zuko feeding some turtle ducks,” Michi teased. “What’s she like? Your mom?” 

The turtleduck swam under the gently moving water, eating some unseen substance under it, before continuing on its way. 

“She was a good mom. Protective of me.” Zuko picked up a smooth rock and attempted to skip it, caring little about his form. The rock plunked into the depths and didn’t jump further. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

“What happened to her?” Michi asked. Zuko noted that worry always made her brows furrow cutely. He wished he’d stop noticing things. 

“I don’t know,” he looked down, averting Michi’s eyes. “She disappeared one day when I was little.” 

“I’m so sorry, Zuko.” Michi said quietly. 

“I wrote a letter to her, the day I met you.” Zuko found his words leaving his mouth before he could think about their meaning. “I don’t buy all the spirit stuff, but it gave me hope, I guess, that she might read my letter. Maybe that’s stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid,” Michi insisted. “Sometimes hope is all we have. For what it’s worth, I hope she’s out there somewhere. I hope you find her someday.” 

Zuko nodded. Michi’s words always seemed to offer him a little bit of peace, and for that, he was grateful. He wondered if it was misplaced if he deserved her time and her words. “Why are you still being nice to me? After everything I’ve done.” He turned, shame marking his face. 

“I guess my hope is in something else. I hope that, when the time comes, you’ll make the right choice.” He could feel her eyes on him, and he suddenly felt like the weight of the world was flung onto his shoulders. The gravity of the choices he’d make felt overwhelming and crushing with its magnitude. 

Her eyes were caught by something in the river. She shot to her feet, clutching her injured chest and knelt by the water. 

“Michi, what is it?” The boy followed her. 

Her fingers wrapped around something shiny in the water. She pulled her hand out of the stream, and in her palm was a small ring. It was silver, with a white opal in the middle, carved into the shape of a lotus. 

“This is my mother’s!” She gasped. “They must’ve come through here.” Michi looked around. “She wanted me to find this, I just know it. Maybe she’ll be okay.” Tears began to form in her eyes as she slid the gleaming ring onto her ring finger. “I have to find her. I can’t lose her too.” 

Her hand went to her mouth, fresh tears staining her cheeks. Zuko felt gutted, listening to her cry. He wanted to raze the troops that did this to her, even though they were his own people. They were fighting for a cause he thought he believed in, spreading the glory of the Fire Nation. When he saw the destruction it made in Michi’s life, his faith in what was right and wrong was questioned. 

What if he could right this? 

“I’ll do what it takes to help you find her, and your people, I promise.” He looked off into the distance. “I can’t promise anything else.” 

Michi wiped away her eyes and stood. She was struggling to speak. “Thank you.” She wrapped her body around his with an embrace. Zuko didn’t move at first, frozen and tense by her action. Then he relaxed, wrapping his arms around her in return. He rested his chin on her head, the smell of her hair was comforting. 

She pulled away and sniffled, but the smile returned to her lips, and it felt like Zuko had accomplished something. He’d made her smile. Despite everything else that was happening, despite his failures, he’d achieved that, at least.

She chuckled through a tear and spoke again. “I know the spirit stuff is a little…” she wiggled her fingers in the universal gesture of _strange_ , “weird to you, but I thought you’d like to know. An ancestor of yours came to me,” Michi said.

“Sozin?” Zuko asked, turning towards Michi with a curious expression. 

“Ah, so you don’t want to hear about my river spirits, but your ancestors are interesting enough,” She joked. Her tears had subsided; she was teasing him again. 

Zuko looked almost pouty. “What did he say?”

“It was Avatar Roku. He said he was your great-grandfather.” 

His eyes went wide. “That’s impossible,” Zuko said, disappointment tinging his voice. He turned towards the water. “Sounds like the spirits were playing a trick on you.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Michi shrugged. “I suppose you would know better than anyone if one of the Avatars were your ancestor, right?” 

Zuko said nothing; his family were ones to keep secrets. He knew that. Doubt crept up in his heart. “What did he say?”

“He said that you have good within you, Zuko. He thinks you’re capable of great things and could be part of what brings balance to the world.” Michi looked at the boy skeptically, not knowing how he’d take the next sentence. “He also thought you should teach Aang firebending.”

“That’s insane,” Zuko snapped. 

“You asked,” she threw her hands up in defense. “I’m just telling you what the presumed Avatar Roku told me.” 

He scoffed, a sour look scrunching his face. “Your spirits don’t know a thing about me or my destiny. My destiny is to make my father proud of me again and restore my birthright.”

Michi looked at him with a frown. “I don’t know much about destinies, but I can tell you that they rarely involve how others feel about you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zuko said. The words held no anger or bitterness but simple neutrality. 

“Well, think about it. It’s completely reliant on your father to achieve. So how can it be _your_ destiny, you know?” Zuko said nothing; the river’s bubbling flow filled the silence. Michi stood carefully and hesitated before speaking. “Zuko, no decent father in all the Four Nations, would do what the Fire Lord did to you.” 

Zuko clenched his fists, he loved his father, and he deserved his punishment for his insolence. Right?

He shot to his feet with energy that startled Michi. He stared deeply into her surprised eyes. “You don’t know a thing about me or my family! You talk about my ancestors and my father like you know me, but you don’t!” He spat. 

His words hung on the river air like mist, and Michi’s face fell into sadness. 

“He burned you, Zuko.” The prince thought she looked rather beautiful when she was sad, but he hated seeing it. She twisted the ring on her finger, nervously. “A father like that isn’t worth trying to please. I don’t need to know _you_ at all to know _that_.” Michi turned back towards the village and walked away. 

Zuko considered that Michi might know him better than he cared to admit. 

The thought frightened him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! <3 
> 
> Leave a comment if you did! 
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> PTW ❁


	9. Fortunes and Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for... 
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> Things have been a little rough still, in my neck of the US. Writing has been helping to keep me sane, and hearing from you all has made me smile, each and every time! <3 
> 
> Takes place during Book 2: Episode 11. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The ostrich horse lurched quickly beneath you, as the three of you rode away on the singular animal. It was strange, the series of events that led to your escape. The five, rugged-looking men who chased you were apparently part of a mercenary group, and also talented singers. Their komodo rhinos were dispatched, and you were fleeing with Zuko and Iroh.

You'd been traveling for nearly a day, away from your destroyed village, and the further away you got, the better you felt. Iroh had apologized profusely for the lies he and his nephew told, and you forgave him. The elder and his nephew began to feel like home, which was comforting, considering the state of your _actual_ home. 

Iroh had also vowed to assist in any way he could to help you find your people. He thought he might have some connections, and strings he could pull to make that a reality. You had few others you could trust, so you took him at his word. It benefited the two of them to get as far away from the Fire Nation as possible, as it took them further away from danger until they could figure out their next moves. 

You tried not to think too much about what their next move might entail. 

Zuko was beginning to warm up to you. The end of the day would find you both chatting easily, punctuated by comfortable silences. Occasionally, Iroh would fill the silences with stories of Zuko's younger years, and tales he'd picked up throughout his life. You would listen intently, Zuko would begrudgingly listen or grumble in annoyance. 

After the three of you escaped, you rode further and further away from the sight of the Rough Rhinos' attack. The ostrich horse began to tire under the weight of all of you, it's breathing becoming more labored. 

You hopped off the saddle. The distance from the mercenaries was far enough, you decided. 

"Wait," Zuko said. "You should ride, you're injured." 

"I'm fine, I can walk for a while. Don't worry." You held the reins of the animal and pet his beak. Your chest was beginning to heal and hurt significantly less than when you got it. You'd looked at it that morning, though, and it would most definitely leave a mark, red, pink, and shiny, right in the middle of your torso. 

"Well, it was nice to see old friends," Iroh smiled.

"You knew them?" You asked, looking back at Iroh, who continued to stay on the saddle. 

"Yes, Colonel Mongke served under me when I was a General, once upon a time," Iroh's farmer hat shaded his face mysteriously. "Then he went off and started the Rough Rhinos. Mongke was always ruthless, but it seems his mercenary work makes him even more so." 

"Too bad you don't have any old friends that don't want to attack you," Zuko remarked sarcastically, joining Michi on the ground and walking beside her. 

"Hm, old friends that don't want to attack me…" Iroh's words trailed off as he thought out loud. 

In the distance, on the dusty horizon, an oasis appeared. In its heyday, it was probably a lovely little spot, but now it looked sad. In the middle sat a block of ice, melting slowly, turning the ground a darker shade of tan. Iroh put his hands on his hips, after dismounting the steed. The buildings in the town were little more than lumpy hovels, the same color as the sand surrounding it. 

"Ah, let's see," he stroked his beard. "That seems like a good place to find a friend." He pointed at a squat, brown building with shady characters lingering around it. 

"Uh-huh," you said skeptically. You exchanged a suspicious glance with Zuko, who shrugged but followed the elder into the nondescript tavern. 

The three of you sat around a wooden table. Its feet were uneven, so it rocked back and forth when you put weight on it. You frowned, tipping it to and fro until Zuko stopped you with a look, twitchy and annoyed. You giggled nervously. 

"No one here is going to help us. These people just look like filthy wanderers," Zuko said bitterly to his uncle. 

"So do we," Iroh retorted. You shrugged, unable to disagree with him. "Ah, this is interesting. I think I found our friend." He nodded at an elderly bald man with a wispy mustache and worn robes, sitting by a Pai Sho board.

"You brought us here to gamble on Pai Sho?" Zuko snapped at his uncle. 

"I don't think this is a gamble," the elder said, knowingly. 

"Be patient," you mumbled at Zuko.

"Young lady!" An old, scratchy voice called from across the room. "Young lady!" It called again. 

You turned and saw an elderly woman, older than time, perhaps. She beckoned you towards her with an arthritic, crooked finger. You pointed at yourself questioningly. She nodded. One of her eyes looked at you unseeingly, milky in color. Ever the curious one, you had to know more. 

"One moment, guys," you mumbled.

Zuko looked at you askance but ultimately returned to his uncle and his Pai Sho partner. You walked over to her table, illuminated warmly on one side under a wall lamp. Wrinkles adorned her face in long, deep lines that looked like canyons. Her frame was tiny and skeletal, and her skin seemed to hang loosely as if it didn't fit the bones and tissue underneath. Her pale, grey hair was tied back into a bun that sat at the nape of her neck. 

"Have a seat," she welcomed. "I have a fortune for you." 

"A fortune?" You asked. "Oh, I don't have any money." You went to turn away. 

"Consider this one on the house." She smiled like a jackal, and it frightened you a little. "I get the feeling your fortune may be interesting. My feelings are not often wrong."

But you weren't one to refuse a free favor. Perhaps the elder could spell out a simple answer to the complicated question that was your destiny. You sat down, glancing at her with skepticism. 

She laid down tiles in a diamond pattern, with three tiles per side. The rectangles were the size of her hand and a dark grey shade that reminded you of soot. They clinked pleasantly against the wooden table, and the old woman, with one pale eye, stared at you as she laid the last one. 

"Pick three tiles, but don't turn them over," her canine smile settled into something more pleasant. 

You thought about which ones you wanted but then decided you shouldn't think about it too much. Your finger settled on one at the top, one at the bottom, and another randomly. 

She looked at you, wisdom and a touch of madness in her eyes, her knobby fingers wrapping around the first tile at the top, flipping it over. 

On the tile was a rudimentary, carved broken sword, snapped in the middle, with the sun behind it. She spoke in a gentle voice. "You've known great loss for someone so young, and yet you still have so much hope and trust. Perhaps it verges on the edge of naïveté, but you see the best in people, even when it's painful."

You hung on her every word, waiting for her to turn over the next tile. Her fingers lingered over the bottom slate before turning it over with a plinking sound. It was the outline of two people, embracing, with a white moon carved out behind them. 

Her thin lips pulled up into a broader smile, and a small chuckle shook her frail frame. "In the not-so-distant future, you will slip on a kiss and tumble into love. It will be a whirlwind, passionate coupling."

Your mind, despite you not wanting it to, thought of Zuko. You swallowed nervously, thinking about his unnaturally warm fingers, honey-brown eyes, and how he had taken care of you with delicacy you didn't know was possible from someone like _him._

Someone from the Fire Nation. 

Her fingers plucked up the final tile, flipping it over. 

It was blank.

You blinked, unsure if you could trust your eyes. The tile remained blank when you looked once more. 

She laughed, clutching her stomach. "Well, isn't this interesting. My tiles have nothing for you, in regards to your distant future."

"What do you mean?" You balked. "I don't understand, do I die or something?"

"Oh, I doubt it, but it's possible," your jaw dropped. "It just means your future has yet to be determined. Perhaps the spirits of fortune and fate have not decided on your destiny."

You picked up the tile and stared at it, hoping it would sprout a carving and offer you answers. "Ma'am, that is _incredibly_ unhelpful." You frowned. 

"Ohohoho!" She giggled. "The tiles can only suggest what someone's fortune is, dear girl. These tiles, your connection to the spirits, none of it can spell out what you should do, nor what your path truly is."

You startled. "How do you know about my connection to the spirits?"

"It's a strong connection, and I have a sense for such things." She waved you off as if this was typical for her. 

You huffed. "How do I know what to do? How do I know if what I'm doing is right?"

She looked up at you from under wrinkled, heavy eyelids. "You're asking the right questions, but I'm afraid that's not for me or the tiles to say." She collected up the remaining tiles, putting them into a purple, velvet bag. You watched her. "You know, it's funny. I could've sworn I carved all of my tiles. Keep the blank one, dear," she dismissed you. 

Just as she grabbed the last tile of the diamond, a voice rang out behind you. 

"I knew it! You two are wanted criminals with a giant bounty on your heads!" The man with the wispy mustache shouted. "You think you're going to capture them and collect all that gold?" You turned around, and many of the patrons held a knife, ready to attack each other for the opportunity to get the reward of capturing the banished Fire Nation prince and his uncle. 

"Gold?" Everyone in the room collectively chimed in. 

"Best be off then, girly," the old woman slid out of the room with a nod of her head, as the room erupted into chaos, sand, and fists flying through the air. 

Zuko, Iroh, and the man you didn't know slipped outside, leaving during the fray, and you followed, dashing outdoors and into the evening. The sun had set, and the desert began to chill. The sky was entirely clear and illuminated with stars and a full moon. 

"What happened? And who's this guy?" You pointed at the stranger. 

"My name is Fung," he bowed with a nod of his head. 

He led you to the other side of the village, and Iroh explained. "Fung is a friend, and he may be able to help us." 

The other elder opened the door to his flower shop. It was quaint, with cacti and succulents in small pots around the room. Splashes of blooms dotted the shelves in warm reds and oranges. It smelled fresh and earthy, and the aroma made you sigh happily. 

The other elder bowed to Iroh. "It is an honor to welcome such a high-ranking member of the Order of the White Lotus. Being a Grand Master, you must know so many secrets."

Zuko seethed. "Now that you played Pai Sho, are you going to do some flower arranging, or is someone in this club going to offer some real help?" 

"You must forgive my nephew. He is not an initiate and has little appreciation for the cryptic arts," Iroh smiled. 

You bowed to Fung. "I've heard of the White Lotus," you beamed. "My mother talked of them frequently." 

"Ah, she would know of us. She's _one_ of us." Iroh smiled serenely. 

"My mother's a member of the White Lotus?" You stared in awe at the two men. 

Iroh nodded. "I didn't meet her personally before we met you the first time. We've laid low for many years. With the war raging, it has been difficult to meet our younger members. I recognized a ring she wore, with a lotus flower, and knew." 

"This one," you looked down and touched the opalescent lotus. "She… she left it behind after the attack. I think she might still be alive. If she's a member of your order, they might want to keep her alive as a political prisoner."

"I have connections to other members. If you give us some time, perhaps we can be of assistance. Knowledge is our strong suit, and we will do whatever it takes to help our sisters and brothers in need. Our mission transcends borders and war." 

You felt a surge of hope. Maybe your mother could be found, and your people saved. 

"Thank you, Fung. I'll take any help I can get." 

He nodded serenely and turned, leading the three of you to a door. Iroh knocked twice on it, and an eye appeared in the peephole. 

"Who knocks at the garden gate?" A voice asked, slightly muffled behind the door. 

"One who has eaten the fruit and tasted its mysteries," Iroh said with a smile. 

The door opened, and Iroh and Fung stepped through, but the door was closed brusquely behind them. The elder peeked through the peephole, and the Pai Sho player was out of sight. "Oh, I'm afraid it's members only. Wait out here."

Zuko frowned and crossed his arms. It was a move that reminded you of a school child who was just scolded, and it made you giggle. The prince turned to you with a huff. "Knowing how he is, they'll probably be there for hours." 

☽ ☽ ☽ 

Michi sat on a table next to a variety of flowers. The girl swung her legs casually, her garments making a swishing sound in the quiet. The prince joined her on the table, moving a pot out of the way to make room. Green, healthy foliage filled the air with a humid, pleasant scent. He leaned over and sniffed one of the plants curiously, the aroma stinging his nose. 

"What did that old woman want?" Zuko asked.

Michi glanced at him with a wry smirk, her swinging legs stopping for a moment before answering. "She wanted to read me my fortune." 

Zuko snorted, and the girl elbowed him jokingly before bursting out laughing, which made a wide grin break out on his face. "What?" She asked, her voice edging on squeaky. 

"What did your fortune say?" He prodded. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She teased. 

"Fine, don't tell me," the boy crossed his arms. The realization dawned on him that he was acting _playfully_ with Michi. It came as naturally as breathing with her. What was the use, building up walls around his heart, if they just came tumbling down with a mere glance? 

"Ugh, you're such a child," Michi groaned. "Fine. She told me the usual, just commented that I'm overly trusting with a tragic background. It could apply to almost anyone, I think." A look of thought crossed her eyes like she was searching for words, but then she didn't say them. 

"What else?" He asked. 

"Oh, what do you care?" She giggled nervously. "You told me yourself you don't believe those things anyway." 

"Come on, it couldn't have been that embarrassing." Zuko insisted. 

The girl sighed and spat the words. "She said I was going to fall in love." 

" _Oh_." Zuko felt his heart beat a little bit faster, and his mind clouded for a moment. "W-what else?" He asked dumbly. 

"She had nothing else for me. The rest of it was blank. Apparently, my life is so confusing even the fortunes couldn't predict how it ends." Michi slumped forward and put her head in her hand. 

"Then you'll need to be prepared for anything," Zuko said, getting to his feet. "Come on."

The prince waved the girl along. She raised an eyebrow but followed. The night sky was dark, with the light of the moon and stars giving off a darkened blue glow over the desert sands. The wind blew, and the girl's hair ruffled. As she walked, Michi tied her hair up into a bun. The hairstyle made her appear more mature and serious. It dawned on the prince how much he had underestimated her when he met her. She was a force of nature, in a way, fierce and determined. 

"I'm going to teach you to use your father's sword," Zuko said.

Michi hesitated before she pulled out her sword from its sheath, and held it unsteadily, but wore a confident grin. Zuko frowned and shook his head. "No, you're not using that." The teacher picked up a sturdy, dry stick off the ground and tossed it at the girl. She caught it, and her grin fell. 

"But I want to use my sword," Michi reasoned. 

"Don't pout," he teased with a smirk. He picked up his own bumpy stick from the ground and dusted it off. "I know you're a capable fighter, but you'll dull your sword if you practice with it all the time. You want to cut down on unnecessary sharpening. Plus, it's dangerous, you don't know what you're doing yet." 

The novice put the blade back in the sheath with a sigh. "Fine." 

"Take your stance," his voice was deep and calm, and the girl complied, taking a wide stance and awaiting instruction. "Like I told you, your sword is an extension of yourself. As with any combat training, nothing can prepare you for the real thing. In a real battle, you'll go for the _head_ ." He took a step forward, his makeshift blade pointing at her face. "In training, you _won't_." 

Michi raised her stick threateningly, mischief playing on her lips. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Well, _I_ won't aim for _your_ head."

"I'm kidding Zuko," the girl knocked his stick aside and took a step forward. 'You're too pretty to hurt," she said through a laugh. 

He fought off a blush, focusing on the task at hand. "We'll start with swords. We'll talk about how to incorporate bending later." 

Iroh had taught Zuko a great deal about sword fighting when he was much younger. Each nation had a way to incorporate their bending style into their weapons of battle. The Fire Nation would make knives of fire, and also use swords to conjure their flames. The Water Tribes would make shurikens of ice. Hammers and swords, just like Michi's, were favored by the Earth Kingdom. The Air Nomads had their staffs both as conduits for their bending, as well as their transportation. 

Zuko was a patient, yet fair teacher. He surprised himself that he wouldn't get annoyed when Michi misstepped, or when her foot stance wasn't quite right. The rigid, firm motions of the Earth Kingdom style came naturally to his pupil, and he would occasionally impart the wisdom of the other nations. The light rounded movements of the Airbenders would work well with smaller stones and earth and could be launched with a flick of her sword and the right motions.

Michi listened carefully to the teacher's instruction and executed each movement with a grace that seemed to come so naturally to her. Though, her posture always seemed a little bit off. 

"No," Zuko corrected. "You want to stand more like this." His legs were far apart, and feet parallel. He held his makeshift sword with both hands, facing forward. Michi copied him, but her back was slightly slumped. The prince exhaled and left his stance, walking over to help her. He placed his hand on her back, and she straightened. "You want to stand tall," he thought for a moment. "Like a tree." 

"Right," she corrected her stance and looked forward. 

"Good," the prince's hand was still on her back. Michi Looked up at him, a warm glow on her cheeks apparent even in the dark of night. Zuko couldn't look away from her eyes, transfixed as if under a spell, and yet he wasn't afraid. For now, at least at that very moment, he could put aside his destiny and uncertainties. 

Michi dropped her fake sword, the stick kicking up a puff of dust. Her hands went to the sides of his face. Her thumbs brushed against his cheeks, touching the edge of his scar on the left side. Zuko didn't mind, the soft feeling of her gloves pleasant on his warm skin. The prince wrapped his arms around her, relishing the closeness. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and held a warmth that made his heart race, loudly thumping in his ears and drowning out all other sounds except for Michi. 

The two words the girl uttered were sweet and nervous: "Zuko, I-"

He never found out what she was going to say. The words were caught by his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing all of this fluff! Ugh, my heart. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought in the comments! (: 
> 
> Much love, 
> 
> PTW <3


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